The New Dentists

Erika Lianne Garcia

It was difficult to button up the black suit, and view the mirror from up here. The first task of zipping up the yellow skin felt like resealing a zip lock or banana, but applying orange makeup on me without being able to see was easy compared to painstakingly inserting each button to each corresponding hole. Between my hooves, the shiny ebony felt like pieces of glass perfectly formed into tiny ponds from the rain. I picked up my two antennas shaped like lollipops with long handles and screwed them in on top of my head. Carefully taking in lobs of greasy wax and applying it on the tips of each antenna, spreading over my scalp so it would easily blend. I washed off the extra grease, and swung back the mirror to see the full view.

The appointment wouldn’t be until four o clock in the morning, although it was still 10.45 pm a lot of things were on my mind, and commuting would probably be a cumbersome task due to the other preoccupations jumbling in my brain. The collection of thoughts filing past in my head weren’t arranged in a convenient manner, and I felt like a frustrated adult not being able to return the 3D puzzle pieces of squares, circles and triangles back inside the ball, and dried beans being rattled, much too many, inside a tiny box that sound was muffled, and everything you had expected to hear and happen does not. While I lay back on the long sofa, of course to accommodate my neck, taking great care not to crease my suit, I starred at the clock directly placed at my foot, and watched the quiet sweeping of the second hand turn into more seconds and more minutes. I was expecting a call, or a doorbell, or a sound (the microwave) which would say that my dinner was ready, I didn’t know which would come first, either way, the hand still continued to spin, still returning to the same point, while the others moved on. I think I must have dozed off, a monotonous beep could be heard over the microwaves bell, and so I picked up the phone first.

“Mr. Alex, earlier you requested a meeting with the head office, however we cannot go through with this. He will be unavailable for the time set.” A husky female voice said on the other end, it was like she was sensually whispering bedroom secrets.

“We do, fortunately have someone who will take care of the matters, for both his and your convenience sake. Location has been changed and you will be notified when matters have been finalized” “We are just making a call, to ensure the message has been reached. Please confirm via email. Thank-you”

A resounding beep ended the pre-recorded voice message.

I reached over for a plate, and cutlery, smelling the grilled chicken and buttered vegetables, string beans as I opened the microwave door.

I took great care in arranging the food it was an enjoyable experience arranging the food: one side vegetables, the other poultry. It was as simples as that. I cut the chicken into thin slices, slanted, and it gave a soft curl before gently falling onto the plate. String beans, I just clumped together and lightly showered it with salt and pepper. There was no need to hurry, I was alone, and no one was waiting for me. And I was waiting for no one. I thought of reading the paper, but decided to watch the TV, it was too quiet in here, and the quietness solidified the late night emptiness of the house. I have met some people who argued that I should not be entitled to eat chicken, it would be too carnivorous, and honestly I had thought about it, but tonight I just felt like doing what I wanted to do. Anyway, it was store bought, and probably the chemicals and preservatives made it less of what it should be. In the background the sound of laundry soap was being advertised, and I !
 could hear the low sounds of two people having a mock debate over brand X and Y.

The meal was excellent. I could feel a slow lull traveling upwards from the warmth of my stomach to fill the heaviness in my lids. My brain was going through a quiet buzz, and I was attempting to fight sleep, the insistent pounding behind my head was growing heavier. I stood up from the table, opened the closet door and got out an oversized long green coat and dressed in them. Hoof in each sleeve; glove in each hoof. The digital clock over the microwave blinked into the next hour one am. The weather outside was dry and cold, the streets empty, the surrounding neighbors would be sleeping. Only the appliances, the refrigerators, air conditioners, televisions would be awake, a strange transmission of cold into the people’s skins into their sleep. I could not get the relative concept of staying awake, but found no resolution of entertainment in sleep.

I stepped out. The road outside appeared like matches lined in a matchbox. Feeling like crossing the street, I looked both ways the straight wide street definitely empty as far as my vision allowed: an entire ruler of concrete. No destination in mind I kept walking straight ahead, a horse wearing blinds by his eyes had more purpose than me. I hadn’t wandered outside in a very long time. Frankly, it was quite embarrassing, and it marveled me how much nothing had changed. In the span of six years, there by the tree hung the same dolled up kite crashing its course into the brambles of a mango tree, and a lithe twine tangled and yellow.

I lived in a part of town, no one knew and no one bothered to know. There was a system that everyone lived by, and I was sure at this hour, everyone had done their chores and washed their faces, and lain inside their beds thinking very much what should be done tomorrow. The bench was across the road, I sat down on it. Unexpectedly, someone had beside me had thought the same. Dressed in a red hooded sweater, gray jogging pants and white sneakers she sat beside me, lifted off the hood and unplugged the earphones from her ears, her hair messily caught in a high pony. She gave a satisfying whiff of air and looked upwards, both arms slung over the bench; her eyes were closed, just taking in the moment.

“I wondered when you’d be coming out. I’d been jogging like crazy every night for the past month.”

I looked over at her; she seemed to sense my puzzlement, opened her eyes and sat up.

“Hey, you’re the one most qualified for this kind of job. Don’t worry it won’t take too much of your time, and you’ll be back for your four am interview, which incidentally if you’ve read the details has been changed to two days from now.”

“I’m not even sure how to respond to that. First of all, if you were aware I needed a job, why not contact me if you already knew so much details of my personal life, for example where I lived. Secondly, what do you need?”

“Mr. Alex, we were not very sure on how to approach you, and bumping into you liked this would seem like seem like a planned coincidence. It would be quite strange if I had set up an interview for a company you haven’t heard of, or haven’t inquired about. Besides, there would be no need for that, since I have stated earlier, you’re the most qualified for this job.”

“What is exactly do you want me to do?”

“We’ve seen from the way you’ve dressed and prepared in the morning we want you to live in a zoo, and observe the people that come and go by.” She said this all curtly.

There was a quiet shuffle of feet, the night brought on a laxity of volume, sound of feet shuffling amplified.

“Have you ever heard of the phrase: If I have wings, then why do I walk? And then the response would go something like: Because you’re a chicken and chickens simply cannot fly.”
“I think Mr.Alex, you are in that same situation as the chicken, or any kind of animal who cannot make that choice, bound by the system created by an unjust hierarchy. It has nothing to do with intelligence. Since sir I know from the way your dressed you are someone to be taken seriously.”

“Mr. Alex we are presenting you with an opportunity, since our company’s appraisal has nothing to do with your intellect. It has more something to do with talent.”

“Okay then, what would I be doing?”

She pushed down on the neon pink lighter, and waited for a flame to rise up, lit up a cigarette and inhaled. “Jogging isn’t exactly my cup of tea, and smoking makes it much more bearable. But smoking and jogging just doesn’t seem to go together. I’d always end up exhausted, just don’t know which one to quit though. Like most things preoccupying me now, is a contradiction.” She said in one continuous spire of smoke. The tiny spires reminded me of the twine entangled in the mango tree. Which oddly enough didn’t make any resemblance to it; a slightly menthol smell lingered in the air.

 “Nothing much, mind you the job description includes you being naked, and at most a lot of gawking. But there shouldn’t be anything else bothering you, it’s in a high class zoo, quite expensive entrance as well, since they mostly designed it to look like a natural habitat. No experiments, work would only take for one week. We’ll keep a constant update on you, or you can keep a journal of observations instead. The company will also provide a substantial fee.”
“So what will it be, call or journal?”

“Journal.”

“We’ll pick you up later, around 6 am, never sure of the hour but around that time.”

She flicked her cigarette across the concrete, a small spark of burnt paper made a bump on the road a trail of two or three pieces left along the quickly burning stick of tobacco. A car had arrived, more precisely a yellow cab. She got up, and handed a calling card.  Written at the back was the company name: OS company.

“How rude, I forgot introductions, please call me J. If you reject our offer, you can call us anytime, it wouldn’t be a bother. Thank-you for your time sir, I hope we meet again.”
She opened the door and got in, the yellow cab driving of its engine too quiet, straight ahead, to turn at the end of the corner, and swallowed by the night.

The only reminder of what actually took place was the calling card I held in my hand, and the cigarette on the street, and even its light was fading fast. I was sure, come tomorrow it would be gone. But then again, I may have been wrong.

Erika likes drawing elephants and aliens, and speculating about them too.