“You don’t socialize enough,” his father said as he buttoned his coat.
Ah! If only he knew! “It’s not the fashion to button up suits any more,” Thomas said. There was no stopping his father when he was on one of his tirades.
His father snorted, ignoring Thomas’ laudable effort to change the subject, “Why can’t you act like a normal person for once? You should get a job that actually involves you stepping out of your apartment. Meet new people, talk to them face-to-face instead of all this newfangled skype bull. Go out on dates, and marry a nice woman, have some kids that I can bounce on my knee and tell stories to of ‘the good old days’.”
Seventeen voices guffawed within Thomas’ head in unison, ‘preferably in that order, I suppose.‘ The ‘B’ group voices were always snarky, their posh accents oozing disdain.
The kind and understanding tones of eight of the ‘A’ rose up within the recesses of his mind, ‘Hush now, that sweet old mind is just trying to help.’
The guttural monotones of forty ‘H’ voices harrumphed, ‘He’s an idiot. Let’s go back home, Thomas.’
Thomas sighed, “Umm Dad, I have to go. I’ll see you during the weekend, all right?”
His father nodded, “Don’t come back without a girlfriend and an engagement ring.”
“Sure thing,” Thomas shouted before shutting the front door, “I’ll just order them both off e-bay.”
L(23): Male chauvinist pig
The Ls always took offence at the slightest thing.
Thomas sighed, and mounted his motorcycle, and old Honda RC that stubbornly refused to start for several minutes.
T(42): Just like your…
He revved the engine, focussing on the Honda’s roar to drown out the voices and calm himself. He hated it when they insulted his dad. Thomas had been tempted to ride off a cliff and get rid of the little assholes in his head once and for all, but the thought of how Dad would cope with the aftermath always stopped his hand. Losing his son as suddenly as he had lost his wife would be too much for that old bear to handle.
Q(454): We need a cuppa!
Thomas rode down Central Street and chose the loudest coffee shop he could find. The loud squawks of Axl Rose coming from the coffee shop’s speakers gave him almost ecstatic relief.
G(500): Hehe! That’s not going to work any more. There are more of us in here now. Not even Amon Amarth and an army of Valkyrie sopranos can quiet us down now.
He ordered a cup of tea and concentrated on the music and the chatter of people around him during the lulls. He tried not to giggle as he remembered his father advising him to socialize more. Thomas would have paid any price to be left alone.
He remembered the peace he’d had during his childhood. If only he’d known how happy he had been throughout those years. He’d spent his entire childhood longing for company. His wishes had been more than answered seven years ago. The Universe had sneezed into some unfathomable dimension and expelled millions of these strange and loud creatures into Thomas’ brain, or so the creatures claimed. Oh damn! He’d been thinking too loudly. They’d heard him.
B(691), C(759), S(63): What do you mean ‘claim?’ It really happened.
Well, either they were right or he was crazy. Thomas preferred the former explanation. It was easier fighting an alien civilization than your own mind.
A(50): You’re not crazy, Thomas.
The waitress came with his tea and said, “You know, I haven’t seen you here for a while. Everything all right?”
G(53): Her name’s Kathy. She told us last time. You didn’t have the guts to ask her for her number, remember?
Thomas remembered. The Gs had been relentless in trying to get Thomas to flirt with her.
G(53): Looks like you’re going to have a second chance, you lucky stud, you! Let’s bone her.
L(16): Bah! He’s more likely to get us thrown out of here if he relies on his charm. You Gs should take over for a while.
G(515): Yeah, Thomas. Give us control, you stupid nerd. You must be the only guy in the world who doesn’t think with his…
Thomas grimaced, “Hey Kathy. Everything’s fine, thanks,” he said through the cacophony in his head.
Kathy smiled, “You used to come here almost every day and sit there nursing your cup of tea for hours. A couple of us had a bet going, wondering what you did for a living. Priya there thinks you’re planning to open your own coffee shop; That you come here to scope out the competition.”
G(1500): And what do you think?
Thomas said, “And what do you think?”
She chuckled, “I’m pretty sure it’s something artsy, because you’re eyes always seem lost in a world of your own; Writer maybe, or musician.”
G(1830): Tell her you’re a screenwriter.
B(420): Pianist
S(250): Marine
L(730): Environmental activist.
Q(430): Arab prince who pissed off ISIS and is now living here disguised as an arts student.
T(316): A muppet in search of a new home.
G(5400): All of you, shut the hell up before he messes this up!
Thomas shook his head, “Nothing as exciting as that. I’m a freelance software designer.”
Kathy sighed with exaggerated sadness, “Aw, I guess I just lost ten dollars.”
G(7300): Guess you didn’t screw up too bad. She’s coming onto you. Tell her not to worry, that you’ll tip well.
Thomas ignored the Gs, which wasn’t easy. “What do you do when you aren’t here?”
“Studying medicine. Gonna start my internship soon.”
“Wow, that’s great. This country needs more doctors. What are you specializing in?”
“General surgery and then Neurosurgery.”
“Really?”
The roars of the Gs turned to silence and Thomas could feel the silent tension building within the colony in his brain. They were scared, but why? Maybe they were scared of getting cut out of his brain. Wait, it couldn’t be that easy, could it?
Two million voices screamed in Thomas’ head: Don’t talk to her Thomas. Pay your bill and leave.
Thomas began to grin. He thought as loudly as he could, making sure that every single one of them heard him: Dad was right. He should socialize more. Kathy would know people who could help him.
He tried to subdue his smile. He must have looked like a mad man with his wide grin. “What are you doing after your shift’s ended? Would you like to have a beer with me in that bar next door?” The future of millions hinged on her answer.
“Sure. I’ll be done in half an hour.”
L(46): Relax everyone, and think. She isn’t going to cut open his head right here and now. Besides, even if he does get his head scanned they aren’t going to find the tumours for a couple more years at least. We can find a new host in the mean time.
But Thomas knew a secret. The As had told him about it a long time ago. The aliens had messed up when they’d chosen a thirteen year old virgin as their primary colony a decade ago. They could only be transmitted to another person sexually. A few more years of abstinence would be a cheap price to pay for world peace.
END
A/N: This is a short story I wrote many many years ago. I came across it while exploring my old hard drive.
© whenmarsmetsaturn.wordpress.com (2018)