The Ant King: A California Fairy Tale | Page 8

Monique said.
"Oh come on Aunt Monique, don't turn into a hypocrite on me! You always told me to follow my heart! You always say it's better to get into trouble than be bored!"
"I didn't say you can't do it," said Monique. "I just said your mother's going to kill me."
"So does that mean I can?" asked Corpse.
"How about if we do this on a trial basis at first," Monique said. "Okay? And you --" she pointed a menacing finger at the Ant King. "No addictive gumball crap, okay?" His antennae stiffened in surprise. "Yeah, Aunt Monique knows more than you think. You watch your step, buddy." She turned to Corpse. "You have one month," she said. "I'll talk to your mom. Then you come back up and we talk it over."
"Oh gosh, thank you, Aunt Monique!"
"You have my word," said the Ant King. "Corpse will enjoy life here thoroughly. And it will be very educational."
"I bet," said Monique.
"Hey, can we violently overthrow the current political order?" Corpse asked.
"Sure," said the Ant King. "That sounds like fun."
* * *
EPILOGUE
* * *
Stan sat across the desk from Lucy the HR person, who smiled at him brightly. "So what are your skills?" she asked.
"I founded this company," he said.
"We try to be forward-looking here," she said. "Less progressive organizations are focussed on past accomplishments, but our philosophy is to focus on current skills. What languages can you program in?"
"None," said Stan. "I can use Microsoft Word, though."
"Mmm-hmm," Lucy said. "Anything else?"
"I'm pretty good at financial analysis," Stan said.
"We are actually overstaffed in Accounting," Lucy said.
"I could work in Marketing," Stan said.
Lucy smiled indulgently. "Everyone thinks they know how to do Marketing. What about Customer Service?"
"I think I'll pass," said Stan.
"Okay," Lucy said brightly. "Well, I'll let you know as soon as something else opens up. Gumballs.com cares about you, as an employee. We want you to know that, and we want you to enjoy your indefinite unpaid leave. Can you do that for me, Stan?"
"I'll try," said Stan, and he left.
* * *
Stan finally met Vic at the company Christmas party in San Francisco. As he expected, Vic was tall, blond, and athletic, with a tennis smile.
"Stan!" Vic said brightly. "Good to finally meet you. And this must be Sheila."
"Hi!" said Sheila, shaking hands.
"Hi, Vic," said Stan. "Listen, I..."
"Great dress," Vic said to Sheila.
"Thanks!" Sheila said. "So what's running the show like?"
Stan said, "I wanted to..."
"It's actually quieted down a bunch," Vic said. "I'm starting to have time for a little golf and skiing."
Stan said, "I was wondering if we could..."
"Wow!" said Sheila. "Where do you ski?"
"Tahoe," said Vic.
"Of course," laughed Sheila.
Stan said, "Maybe if we could take a few minutes..."
"So is your wife here?" Sheila asked.
Vic laughed. "No, I'm afraid I'm single."
"Wow, are you gay?" Sheila asked.
"About 80-20 straight," Vic said.
"Hey, me too!" Sheila said.
Stan said, "It's about my job here at..."
"But really, I just haven't found anyone I've clicked with since moving to the Bay Area," Vic said.
"I know what you mean!" Sheila said.
Stan said, "Because I have some ideas about how I could..."
"So where were you before the Bay Area?" Sheila asked.
* * *
Later Sheila came up to Stan at the punch bowl.
"Stan, you know, things haven't been going so great for us lately."
"Uh huh," Stan said.
"I want you to know, I really appreciate you rescuing me..."
"Hey, no problem," Stan said.
"But since then, it just seems like we aren't going anywhere, you know?"
"Sheila, I love you," said Stan. "I'd give my life for you. I've never found anything in my life that means anything to me, except you."
"I know, Stan," she said. "I know. And maybe I'm being a bitch, but you know, that's kind of hard to live up to. You know? And I'm just not there yet." She put her arms around him. He stiffened. She let go and sighed. "I just think..."
"Are you going to run off with Vic?" Stan said. "Just give it to me straight."
Sheila sighed. "Yeah," she said. "Yeah, I guess I am. I'm sorry."
"Me too," Stan said.
* * *
Stan left the party and walked to the Bay Bridge. He looked down into the black water. He thought about jumping, but he didn't really feel like dying. He just didn't feel like being him anymore.
He decided to become a bum and walked to South of Market, where he traded his suit, shoes and wallet for an army jacket, a woolen cap, torn jeans, sneakers, a shopping cart, three plastic sacks, and a bottle of Night Train in a paper bag. But he wasn't a good bum. He was too polite to panhandle, he didn't like the taste of Night Train, and at campfires he felt alienated from the other bums -- he didn't know any of the songs they liked, and they didn't want