Short Story #1: The Best Decision Ever Made

It was completely quiet, save for the distant sound of morning traffic.  The little hand of the black wall clock was pointed southwest.  White ambient sunlight shone through the white sheers of the window.  Nothing was making a sound.  The studio was completely clean and flawless, and appeared prepared for the filming of an IKEA commercial.  The only sounds were of a fish tank bubbling quietly on the pristine counter, and the black clock ticking steadily on the far wall.  One single man lay asleep in the crisp white quilt and sheets of a black framed bed that was far too big for him by himself.  Fast asleep with one hand in his thick umber hair, he looked almost peaceful, mixed up in the crisp sheets.

“Good morning, Mr. Quigg.”

The man in the bed did not move.

“Zachary Quigg, you must wake.”

There was a sharp intake of breath, but still no movement.

“Your decision not to move will inevitably cause you to not make your bus in time, Mr. Quigg, and you will inevitably be late to your occupation.”

The intake of air was expelled as loudly as it had been inhaled.  A groan accompanied it, as his hand moved through the hair and moved to rub his still-closed eyes.

“You have made a wise choice, Mr. Quigg.”

Finally, a reply came from the man.

“Thanks.”  And with that, the hazel eyes snapped open to face the day.

* * *

He dressed quickly in his dress shirt and jeans, and went to the tiny clean kitchen to pick up his already made cup of coffee. He took his black dress jacket off of the hook by the front door.  He made sure to leave on time, never saying a word.  He caught his bus.  He went to work.  He took the same bus home.  As he stepped through his front door and it clicked shut, he closed his eyes. He took a deep breath, and waited for it to begin.  He wanted to just get it over with.

“Your summary of todays events, Mr. Quigg:  If you had made your ingenious suggestion in today’s meeting, your manager would have given you complete control over the next project,  and it would have eventually resulted in a promotion.” The Voice stopped.

“Is that it?” he wondered to himself.  “Yes, that’s it,” came the reply. He sighed in relief, even though the news was once again bad.  He thought of how lucky he was to have only made one bad decision during the course of the day.  There were some days like this, in which only one mistake had been made.  On other days, there could be up to a dozen or more mistakes or errors in his decision making.  He just never knew until he got home, in the quiet.  It was always during that time that the final report came out.

Ever since he was old enough to make decisions, it had happened.  Zachary didn’t know how it happened, or why it happened, but it happened.  Somehow, he had the ability that no other human seemed to have – the ability to know the consequences of the choices he made.  It was almost like being able to see into the future, only with one horrifying flaw: he could not change the decision once he made it.

As he hung his coat on its hook by the front door, he sighed a tired sigh.  He turned on his stereo.  He made his usual salad for dinner, which he consumed alone at the tiny square dining room made for two.  He scribbled furiously in his thick fat notebook full of dreams and false memories of what could have been, as well as a few hopes for the future.  And then he went to bed like always, to sleep in dreamless peace.  On the weekends, while others were out having fun, Zachary brought his work home with him, he indulged himself by cooking a steak for his dinner, and he often popped open a bottle of wine.  Besides the voice telling him what he might have done by going out on the town, he drank the wine to at least muffle the sound.  His work was satisfying, at least; working for an advertising company in the heart of the big city was always his dream job, and he had achieved it with much hard work.

Everyone always wondered where he got so much passion for his work.  He wished that he cold tell them, without being placed into a mental institution.

He wasn’t crazy; he knew enough about himself to know he was not crazy. Hours of reading of psychology texts and online journals gave him enough knowledge to know that he was not crazy.  He never acted out any delusions, and he tried his darndest not to talk back to The Voice.  Whenever he did, he snapped the green rubber band around his left wrist, and resumed his work.  Music was his refuge; he knew his ears would betray him later in life for listening to it so loudly, but it was one of the only things that kept him sane.  He couldn’t afford to think about so many decisions.

*                  *                      *

It was not until she came along that things got better.  It was a she, and She was the cure.  And She had no idea of anything, all along.

She found him through his work, as she was one of his clients at first.  She became his friend later, but that was not the point at the moment.  She needed a new logo for the bakery she was opening in town. She came to him for advice, and he took her in gladly.  He could not tell her as he was typing up ideas for her that he couldn’t fathom how she could take such a risk. Opening a bakery in the heart of the big city? If it did not succeed, she would surely fail and lose everything she had. Didn’t she mind taking such a big risk? She was so confident. Who could be so carefree about such a decision?

Zachary had been keeping up his usual routine.  He went to work, he enjoyed his work, he tried his best to make the proper decisions, and he went home to the depressing Voice.  He knew he wasn’t crazy, but why had he been given such a thing? What did he ever do to deserve it?

And would it ever go away? No, probably not.

So as he sat in his house on one Friday evening, his work set in front of him for his newest client and her bakery, he wondered. He had never wondered so much about one person before, although he did take to observing normal ordinary lives on a regular basis. What a wonder it would be to live a casual, normal life, not knowing the future.

She had said something so strange to him that afternoon. He had finally gotten up the gall to ask, “What happens to you, if this bakery doesn’t work out?”  As soon as he asked it, he had felt he had asked too much – but the little blonde lady leaned forward and said, “I have every expectation that it will succeed!”

Why, this lady was ordinary, wasn’t she? Did she have the opposite of his condition? Was she blessed with the ability to know of every decision which would lead to her success? Why, there was no way to lose! And yet, that could not be… she was scraping by with very little money, she had said, and she certainly wasn’t extraordinarily rich.  She dressed nicely, to be sure, but she had no extra things. She was a simple lady with a confidence that shone brighter than anything she could possibly have worn. And she did succeed… for a year she got to know him and became friends with him, and they both took a great liking to each other. For once, Zachary did something other than work on the weekends. He spent time with the beautiful blonde with the pretty eyes and the personality that sparkled. He spent more hours in her bakery and cafe with his work than he did at home. If he drank wine in his apartment, she always happened to be there, and that was just the way he liked it.

She was so amazingly loose with her life; something that he had never mastered. He had always tried; he always wanted to move through life not knowing what was coming next.  She bumbled through every situation so happily. She loved to see what was coming next.  She had said it several times over the past year.  That was what appealed to him so much.  If she never knew what was coming next, maybe just being close to her would make the Voice go away.

If she had the ability to succeed in everything, he thought, then surely she would choose to be rich and among the elite. If only he could ask her if she had such an ability… but if she was truly a completely normal lady, he would not only lose a client, but the closest person he had ever had to a girlfriend. Besides, she was certainly a beautiful lady – to scare someone like her away would be the worst decision of his entire life! He would never want to hear The Voice tell him of everything he might have been able to have with such a beautiful woman.  The thought terrified him, and nearly drove him into a panic.  If he was to spend his whole life without her, he would never hear the end of it – not only from The Voice, but from himself. He had to do something.  He had to.  But in order to do anything at all – to ask her any questions, and to get any answers – he had to tell her about who he was.  She seemed to like everything else about him – she seemed to adore him, even – but he was afraid that his fallacy, his strange, seemingly supernatural ability, would drive her away.  If his heart was not already broken, it certainly would be after such a trauma.

But there was no way for him to approach this beautiful lady seriously without first telling her. It would be wrong not to tell her.  Would she be angry that he didn’t tell her that he was some sort of insane man? Maybe he truly was insane, and that was why he didn’t wish to tell her.  Would she really run away? Was she open-minded enough to accept him as he was?  However she reacted, it would be fate either way, and there was only way for her to find out.  He had to tell the carefree girl about how high-strung he was about his own life, since every decision he seemed to make was wrong.

And now, he made the choice to tell her.  He popped open a bottle of white wine as she sat down at his two-seater dining room table, laughing and talking about a story she had heard.  She made a good comment about the smell of the wine as he poured. He was strangely silent, she noticed, but she said nothing of it.  She knew that he would come around to it.  She finally grew quiet and watchful when he sat down at the table and cut into his steak, but he really wasn’t focused on that. Finally, he set down his fork and knife. He rubbed his temples, staring at his plate, until he finally rested his elbows on the table and clasped his hands together. He wrung them anxiously. He looked over the table at her. Her eyes flickered from the light of the candles she had lit in the center of the little table.  She listened, and he told her.

She didn’t even ask him to repeat twice. She told him she understood. She also told him that she loved him.  He also got a kiss.

And Zachary Quigg noticed that as soon as they became a destined pair,  The Voice went away as quickly as it had come – because with her by his side, he could do no wrong.  He had made the best decision that he could ever make, to trust his heart and choose to be with her.  Every choice from that time on, so long as he was with her, was the perfect choice.

And that was all that truly mattered.