Archive for July 21st, 2008
The Wall Project–2
The hole count was nearing a thousand and now, a whole two and a half years after the wall was erected and with just a mere ninety-seven and a half years left in The Wall Project, no one had desecrated the wall, no one had cheated. But that wouldn’t last long and Nivens would have to wait. Two weeks later a memo circulated: “It seems that we have a saboteur(s) in our midst. The hole count, which has been carried out with diligence and adroit care, is off by a significant margin. Over night, there has been a total of thirteen holes added to the wall. Beware all vigilante actions! This is in direct opposition to the wishes and demands of upper management. The culprit(s), when caught, will be punished severely and without remorse.”
Night watches were set, cameras put in place. A thorough investigation into all staff members’s activities over the last three weeks would be initiated. E-mails were tapped and re-read in order to see if they contained information, secret codes, glyphs. Memos were searched. Garbage dug through. People were brought in, or rather up, and questioned. Rumors blazed through the staff of ruthless interrogations and some employees were never seen from again.
The wall stood still.
Accusations spread through the staff and paranoia spread. Certain individuals suffered through smear campaigns and other people’s cubicles were covered with hateful graffiti. Nivens, too, began to think that the others suspected him and he started looking over his shoulder more and more often. For safety he would sit for hours in front of his computer watching the fish tank screen saver. This calmed him a little but slowly dark circles began to appear under his eyes and he had a hard time eating. He avoided the water cooler, now. Just to be safe.
The extra holes stopped. And peace was regained in the company.
Silently, however, Graham Nivens felt cheated. Someone had stolen his limelight and it would be tougher for him to execute his plan. His hatred of “it” grew. Indeed, he could no longer refer to “the wall;” “it” was much better because “it” depersonalized “it” and made “it” more abstract. “It” became a thought that he could mould or discard as he saw fit and in this way, “it” was intangible and removed from the everyday.
The weekend before his swing Graham Nivens locked himself in his house watching a barrage of old movies. He started with Taxi Driver. Then moved on to Natural Born Killers. Finished with American Psycho. Inspired, he headed off that Saturday to the barber shop just down the corner from his house and had his head shaved. It was his Zen look. That Monday at work some people mentioned it but only in an offhanded way. In due course, as his day drew nearer, others started to notice and some even came to work with their heads shaved. Some proclaimed that it would improve their oneness with the wall, that their swing would land upon the wall’s surface with perfect, peaceful serenity.
Finally, after a one month delay the One Hundred Year Project started up again.
And Mary Plonkin swung.
Zoe Thoms swung.
And the day arrived for Graham Nivens’s swing. They were back to the top of the order and as usual curiosity seekers crowded around; reseting the order always brought a certain excitement. He approached the wall and looking about him, Graham held Bunter high over his shoulder and with a final look at the crowd he brought the hammer down in a clean smooth arc while simultaneously extolling the virtuous creed, “I swing, therefore I am!” Just before the point of impact he let out a huge (fake) sneeze and the hammer took flight from his hand. It soared across the foot and a half of space, tumbling end over end until it s truck the wall and stayed there, suspended, the hammer head jutting out of the wall.
Dead silence brought life to the room.
The handle faced the room and everyone stared at it. It fell to the ground and pandemonium broke lose. There was a cry at the back and everyone exploded into angry screams and started pushing and shoving each other, wanting to get nearer to the wall. Someone yanked the hammer off of the floor and the violent motion errantly struck the wall gouging a larger hole in the surface. This evoked more cries and calls of foul play. There were more screams and more pushing. In the din of excitement Graham slid out of the room untouched.
Throughout the next week Graham Nivens was blacklisted. No one would talk to him and they even took a wide berth when they passed him in the hall. Everyone wondered what would happen. Was it a mistake? How would management deal with this? Was he the one who put in the extra holes? For safety reasons he was given a leave of absence until things “blew over.” That is what the memo said, “until things blew over.”
That Friday, a third memo was released from the top. It stated that, after extensive research, the party involved, an individual whose name would remain undisclosed for safety reasons, was absolved of any intentional or criminal acts, but, to respect due process and the goals of management and the integrity of the One Hundred Year Wall Project, the aforementioned party will miss his next three swings, being the approximate number of holes that the unidentified party’s erroneous swing accounted for.
It now burned Graham Nivens in both his waking and sleeping life and he plotted once and for all for its demise. His new plan would not fail. This new plan would change everything.
And he would do it tonight.
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