Charlie Cradle’s Wonderful Existence
Scott J. Callaway
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Copyright 2013 Scott J. Callaway
Cover Design by www.MotherSpider.com
This is a work of fiction. Names, character, places and incidents either are products of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously and any resemblance to actual events or locales or persons, living or dead is entirely coincidental. All rights reserved. No part of this book may be used or reproduced in any manner whatsoever without written permission of the author except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical articles and reviews.
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For Carlie,
The heart of my favorite love story
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Chapter 1
“I’m sick and tired of you people calling my home!”
The outraged screaming sound that Charlie listened to coming through the other end of the phone line was nothing out of the ordinary. Every day, she called people to ask questions that the company she worked for considered necessary for their research.
“How many people live in your home?”
“Do you smoke cigarettes?”
“Do you eat pickles?”
That’s what Charlie looked forward to five days a week of her life.
“I’m sorry sir,” said Charlie, forcing herself to keep composure. She took a deep breath, and then read from the lines on the screen that had become so familiar to her while struggling to sound as perky as possible. “I understand your frustration. However, The Pickle Jar Incorporate is reaching into the family home to conduct research to learn of what people love most about their pickles. Your opinion and cooperation is of great value to us.”
“You want my opinion?” asked the man. “I don’t give a damn about your pickles, so leave me to eat my dinner in peace!”
Charlie’s earpiece rang as the man smashed his end of the phone line down hard. When she was first hired for the job, this would have equaled something of an insult. But after a few days of the same thing happening over and over again, she quickly learned to cast away her humanity and adopt a robotic heart. If it wasn’t for the need to pay the rent and all the other essentials of life, Charlie would be far, far away from this place. But then again, even if she could get away, she wouldn’t know where else to go. In the Maritime city of Riverton, New Brunswick, she qualified for very little in regards to work.
Charlie Cradle is a quirky, awkward, and less than ambitious twenty-one year old woman who likes to spend her time online gaming and reading comic books and fantasy novels, desiring nothing more but to live her simple existence. Her routine never wanders very far out of what’s considered typical for her, and that’s exactly how she likes it. It’s not that she couldn’t do other things, she tells herself, but instead of being out for a night on the town, she would rather be questing for that level one hundred and seventy-five sword so she can be a part of more guild events in her online world. Virtual sunshine was enough for her.
She looked at the time on the clock and felt like banging her head on her desk. 2:00 pm. That meant there was still three more hours of senseless questioning for the sake of pickles.
Charlie rediscovered her hatred for pickles all over again. But she did her job, because what else could she do? Her little apartment and online gaming subscription wouldn’t pay for themselves.
Besides—tomorrow, a phone call would change her life.
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It was a little past six o’clock when Charlie arrived home and her mother called. She set her bag of groceries on the table and answered the call.
Level thirty monster incoming via cell phone, thought Charlie.
“Charlene!” said her mother as soon as she answered the phone. “Are you okay? You had me worried sick! What’s the matter with you, not calling your mother for three days?”
Charlie sighed. “Mom, please stop calling me Charlene.”
“What is it with you with that crazy name? Charlie’s a boy’s name. You’re my baby girl.”
And that’s exactly why Charlie is just fine, she thought. The truth is that Charlene was everything her mother ever wanted her to be: fashionable, giddy, and a girly-girl. Changing her name to Charlie was a way to create distance from the image her mother tried to apply to her while growing up. But she found out very quickly that was not the person she was meant to be. As people go, she liked being Charlie a lot more than Charlene. The clothes were more comfortable and it was okay to eat out of the pizza delivery box.
“I’m sorry, Mom,” said Charlie. “It’s just that I’m on the phone all day at work so I like to shut mine off at night.”
“You know I like to have a little conversation with my baby girl every once in a while,” said her mother.
As much as she hated to talk to her mother before supper, she still didn’t like to hear that sad tone in her voice whenever she would forget to call for a few days. “I’ll try to remember for tomorrow. I promise.”
“Thank you! So, you wouldn’t believe who I ran into today. Eliza Von! You know? That beauty queen who carries that ridiculous poodle in her purse? The way she prances around like she can get all the men in the supermarket really rubs me the wrong way!”
As the conversation went on, Charlie checked off all the topics on a checklist, in correct order, that her mother would rant about.
Miss good-for-nothing beauty queen – check.
The price of gas – check.
The raccoon terrorizing their garbage on their front porch – check.
And finally, her father’s bowel problems – double check.
Some people would consider this a psychic ability, but for Charlie it just meant 6:15 pm.
After supper, Charlie put on her lazy clothes and got ready to get her game on. She entered her username and password, chose her Wood Elf Ranger character, and signed into her online fantasy world.
Almost immediately, she received a private message.
“Hey.”
It was a friend she met online, Vinland. Of course, Vinland was only his character’s name. His real name was Tom. But Charlie liked to keep things more informal, so she stuck with using their in-game names instead.
“Hey there, Vin!” said Charlie.
She liked Tom. He was a fantastic chew toy for the monsters to munch on while she peppered them with arrows from afar.
“What’s up?” he asked. “You still coming to the dungeon run tonight?”
“Of course!” said Charlie. “I’ve been thinking about that Bow of Lesser Destruction all night. I’m going to be pouring out so much more damage once I replace my current bow.”
“So you mean you’ll finally be able to hit something for once?”
“Ha! Funny.”
“Hey, just saying. I can’t keep secretly asking Dewma to cover my armor repair costs. You’re reducing me to a mere beggar.”
“If you can’t take the pressure, then maybe you’re better off playing My Little Pony Pinkie Pie’s Party like a good little girl.”
Charlie thought she burned him good and a smile spread across her face in anticipation of his comeback. But a couple of minutes passed without retort and she worried that maybe he was offended, even though that was unlike him.
“Sorry,” replied Tom.
Charlie sighed with relief.
“Delivery guy arrived.”
“That’s okay,” she said. “You ready?”
“Yeah, let’s check with everyone else so we can get this party started.”
Charlie had known Tom for about two years. They met while playing a different game during a free-for-all gun
battle. The match was down to just the two of them and whoever got the next kill won the round. Charlie prowled the abandoned warehouse until she caught sight of him doing the exact same thing while searching for her. She crouched and readied her gun, waited for him to enter her line of sight, and then... direct head shot! The game was won and she squealed a big “Yes!”
A minute later, Tom sent a private message, congratulating her.
“Nice shot.”
And that was the beginning of their friendship.
She liked that he was a good sport. That kind of person was almost alien to that type of game. And for the longest time Tom believed Charlie was a guy because of her username: Charlies_Gonna_Get_Ya. She didn’t reveal to him the truth because experience told her that most gamer guys became real weird once they found out she was a woman.
“Whoa, really?!”
“No way?! That’s so hot!”
“I’m adding you to my friends list.”
Sure, being known as a female gamer had its benefits. People give you free passes. But that’s not what Charlie’s about, and it became real annoying constantly having boys hitting on her and asking what she looked like.
Once Charlie felt comfortable enough with Tom, she told him the truth. His initial reaction was a bit surprised, but he acted as if nothing had changed between them and they continued joking and playing like they always had. She appreciated that about him.
But Charlie wished that she could talk to people in person like the way she talked to Tom online. In virtual reality, she’s cool and comfortable. In the real world, she’s awkward and clumsy. Trying to fit in like everyone else was a task of its own. She didn't know what to talk about when engaged in conversation with other people. She wasn’t interested in the same things other people are interested in and not very many people she knew liked books and online gaming. She’s the type of person who lets others talk while she listens, and if they didn't carry the flow of the conversation, it was riddled with more uncomfortable silence than she preferred. However, sometimes that awkward silence was a welcomed tool to end unwanted interactions pretty quickly. But in the grand scale of things, that was a minor flaw. The important thing, she thought, was that she didn’t feel like she was missing out on anything. That’s the way she lived her life. No risks, no chances, just simple living on a day to day basis.
Existing.
After the dungeon run, Charlie was put out.
“No bow,” she said. “I guess I’m going to have to give it another try tomorrow night.”
“And I guess I’m going to have to buy a new box of Band-Aids,” said Tom.
“Thanks for being tank again. You make it seem easy.”
“Herding monsters, poking them with sharp and pointy things, letting them beat the crap out of me… It’s what I do.”
She shook her head and smiled, then typed, “I’ll talk to you tomorrow night.”
“See you then.”
Charlie signed out of the game and got ready for bed. Tomorrow was another big day of harassing people’s dinner hour with important questions about pickles.
As she slept, she had the strangest dream. In her dream, she stood in an empty room with no windows and no doors. Everything was painted white so that every imperfection on the walls was clearly visible and easily distinguished. Ultimately, it was bland and not very exciting. Then she noticed the table in the center of the room, which she thought she should have noticed immediately, thinking it must have appeared out of thin air. She approached the table, and sitting on a plate in the middle was a sandwich. Because of the dream, she couldn’t tell exactly what kind of sandwich it was, but what was important was that she knew that it was a sandwich. So she stood in the middle of the unexciting, empty white room and looked at the only thing that portrayed any color. The sandwich.
Then Charlie woke up.
She looked at her clock and it displayed 4:27 am. It was still way too early to get up, so she went back to sleep. She thought about the dream she’d just had and how strange it was, but she decided it was unimportant and soon forgot about it. By morning, other more exciting dreams replaced the important one.