Utopian Day (3 page)

“
...or I'll get the shock of my
life,” James responded.

J.T. gave him a thumbs up without turning
around.

James unlocked the door to his room and went inside.
The 1950's era decorations were complete, right down to the vintage
bedspread, tacky lamp, two-drawer dresser with a cheap veneer faux
wood finish, and the metal trash can with a western motif painting
of a stagecoach on it. He smiled as he thought about how much
better this was than going to sleep each night in his former jail
cell back East.

He sat down on the bed, propped some pillows up as a
backrest, and began reading the manual J.T. had given him.

Chapter Five

From the manual:

Inmates are expected to follow all
the rules set forth in this manual. Failure to comply will result
in disciplinary measures which can include revocation of any
suspended sentence agreement and removal from the
program.

A central part of the program are the five
practices. All inmates must participate in the following:

1. Participate in the daily exercise regimen.

2. Attend the scheduled group sessions and
individual counseling sessions.

3. Practice an approved hobby.

4. Read a book from the approved
book list for one hour per day.

5. Contribute to the community by
performing approved acts of service.

James was awakened from a deep sleep by an alarm
clock noise coming from a speaker positioned in the corner of his
room. After the alarm sounded for about ten seconds, a
pleasant-sounding automated voice came over the speaker: “Please
report to the exercise field for your morning exercises in 30
minutes.”

James barely had time to shower and change into a
jumpsuit he found in the closet before he heard a rapping at the
door. He opened it up to see J.T. in a similar-looking
jumpsuit.

“
Come on in. I'm just putting on
my shoes.”

“
No can-do,” replied J.T. “We
cannot go into another inmate’s room.” J.T. pointed up into the
sky. “Big brother is watching.”

James finished tying his shoes and followed J.T.
down the street to what looked like a small park. Gathered in the
middle of the park were six other people in jumpsuits. J.T. greeted
the group as they approached.

“
Good morning, troops! This is our
new recruit. His name is James.”

James began to move forward to begin shaking hands
with the first man, who looked to be in his late forties, about
five-foot-six, and slightly built. The man held up both hands and
took a step back.

“
Whoa! Don't touch me or you'll be
shocked.”

James immediately backed off. “Sorry about that. Not
used to the rules yet.”

“
That's o.k. We just wave around
here,” the man replied. “I'm Samuel.” He waved his hand at James
for effect.

“
Hi Samuel.” James waved his hand
back.

Before the conversation could continue, the same
automated voice came over some well-hidden speakers.

“
Position yourself to begin
morning exercises in 30 seconds.”

The group, James noticed, had grown to the full
complement of ten inmates. Everyone quickly spaced themselves out
to begin the exercises. James had read about the exercise routine
the night before in the manual. Stretching, followed by aerobic
calisthenics and body-weight exercises, finishing up with some
Tai-chi and a 1 mile walk/run. The whole work-out was intended to
be about 30 minutes long for most people, but 45 minutes was
allotted to account for some people taking longer to finish the
walk/run at the end.

James was surprised to notice that there were five
women in the group. No one had told him that this was going to be a
co-ed facility. He was liking this new facility better by the
minute. When the group started the run, he positioned himself
beside one of the women who had short, blonde hair.

“
How long have you been here?”
James asked.

“
Not interested,” she
replied.

“
Not interested in
what?”

“
Look,” she responded, “we both
know you're just starting this conversation because you're
attracted to me. I'm just letting you know up front that I'm not
interested. No big deal, just not interested.”

Before James could respond, the woman picked up the
pace and ran ahead of James. James sped up and came up alongside of
her again.

“
Hey, I get it, o.k.? But since
we're both stuck in here, maybe we could be friends.”

She turned her head to the side and rolled her eyes.
Next, she sped up the pace again. James tried to keep up, but it
was clear he was in no shape to catch her, so he finally started
slowing down. J.T. soon came jogging up beside him.

“
Don't mind her. She's got a chip
on her shoulder.”

“
Why's that?” James
asked.

“
You ever wonder why you were
picked out for this program? Why anyone was picked out for a
program years after it started when only ten people were selected
to be in it?”

“
I haven't had time to think too
much about that yet.”

“
One of us died, that's
why.”

James put two and two together.

“
So the one who died was her
boyfriend, is that it?”

“
Yep. And his replacement is the
last person you want to be. Every time she looks at you, she'll
remember him.”

“
What happened to him?”

“
Freak accident. He was allergic
to shellfish. One of the sandwiches they delivered for us had been
mis-labeled and had shellfish in it. One bite and he went in to
anaphylactic shock. Died before we could give him the epinephrine
shot.”

“
Wow.”

“
Yeah, I miss the guy. He was a
real corker. So anyway, I'd leave her alone for a good six months
if you ever want to be on speaking terms with her.”

“
Thanks for the tip,” James
replied.

They finished the run and everyone headed back to
their rooms to change into their work clothes. James had been
trained on his job before arriving, so it was no surprise when he
walked into the small warehouse and found his assembly station
looking very similar to what he had been trained on. The ubiquitous
automated voice came over the speaker system and announced the
count-down to the beginning of work. Thus began James' first day of
work in the program.

It was easy enough to remember his job. Put the
bolts in here, apply the gasket there, place the completed part in
the bin for the next person in line to do their job. Overall, it
was mind-numbingly boring, but it was better than staring at a cell
wall for most of the day, so he wasn't too bothered by it.

Dinner was in the diner and was very different from
any of the prison meals James had ever had before. Men and women
sat together, and it felt more like a pot luck dinner at your
grandmother's house than a prison cafeteria. James sat in a booth
with J.T., Julie, and Malcolm. Julie was very up front about the
fact that she was incarcerated for insurance fraud. Malcolm was
about fifty years old and was telling jokes throughout the meal
that made Julie laugh so hard she snorted.

Afterwards, once it was announced that dinner was
over, everyone took their dishes and utensils to the counter where
three of the group, who were apparently on kitchen duty, took them
and began washing them. Everyone else exited the diner and began
walking down the street. James followed along, wondering where they
were headed as they continued in the opposite direction from their
rooms at the motel. Soon they were in front of a red brick
single-story building. Three steps led up to the entrance of the
building. There were four concrete columns at the entrance to a
small portico which sheltered the doors to the interior of the
building. Over the door, etched in stone, were the words, “Utopia
Public Library”.

Everyone but J.T. and James split off once they
entered the library. James could see that there were several
seating areas spaced throughout the long middle corridor that ran
the length of the building. The cushioned seats were dated, but
comfortable looking. The inmates began sitting down in the
different areas, each with one or more books in their hands that
they had retrieved from a shelf near the entrance.

“
I assume you've read the manual?”
J.T. queried.

“
Yes. But it was a bit short on
the particulars,” James replied.

“
There are around 100,000 books in
this building, with 200,000 more accessible on the intranet from
the computer terminals in the back,” J.T. explained. “The computers
are on a closed network, so you can't get to the web – just in case
you were wondering. You pick a book and read it. When you are done,
you punch in the book code on one of the computer terminals and you
take a short test that basically proves you actually or probably
read the book, and that's it. Books range from fifth grade reading
level through college level. Classics to modern. No trashy romance
novels, no porn, and nothing that encourages violence or criminal
behavior, but beyond that, the field is wide open. Oh, and I almost
forgot – the books can't leave the building. There are sensors at
the door and the cameras are watching.” J.T. pointed up to where
James could see several black orbs protruding on stems from the
ceiling.

“
What happens if you don't get the
answers right or just refuse to read?”

“
Well, I'm thinking you can guess
what your options are...” J.T. began.

“
Tow the line or get kicked out of
the program?” replied James.

“
You see?” J.T. responded. “I knew
you were a smart one the moment you walked in. Happy reading.” With
that, J.T. wandered off into the library to find his own reading
material for the night.

James had done well enough in school, but he had
never been much of a reader. Between helping his mom out by working
a job after school and doing his school work, he never took the
time to explore non-required books. He wandered up and down the
aisles, looking at the shelves full of books he had mostly never
heard of. He wound up in the history section and his eyes lighted
upon a thin book entitled
The Autobiography of Benjamin
Franklin
. Without much interest other than fulfilling his
required reading obligation, he found a comfortable-looking chair
and sat down to begin to read.

Chapter Six

James woke up to the sound of the automated voice
instructing him to dress for work and proceed to the workshop at
451 tenth street. He looked at the clock positioned on the bedside
table and noticed he had been awakened a full hour earlier than
normal. He stared at the ceiling momentarily, wishing he could
sleep in, but knowing that wasn’t an option, so he got up anyway.
He showered, dressed, and headed out the door just as the sun was
rising on Utopia. The street lights were still on and the night
chill was still in the air.

Utopia was designed with one main street going down
the middle of town, with short side streets jutting off that were
themselves perpendicular to the main road at every block. The side
streets were numbered sequentially, so it was easy to find 10th
street. James found his destination just behind the first row of
buildings.

The workshop was a brick building with a metal roof.
It had large metal sliding doors facing directly toward the street,
and a smaller door off to the side for pedestrian access. James
knocked on the door three times and waited. There was no answer, so
he went inside.

The ceiling to the workshop was about thirty feet
up, where huge gas-powered lights shown down on the contents of the
building below. There was an empty area directly in front of the
large sliding doors, leading to the alleyway that was big enough to
park a couple of large vehicles. Beyond that were several rows of
industrial-sized shelving units two-stories tall and about ten feet
wide each, which spanned the remaining length of the building.

“
Good mornin',” J.T.'s familiar
voice echoed out in the cavernous space. James looked up to see
J.T. peering down at him from the second story of one of the large
shelving units. “Come on up,” he continued as he waved his hand at
the metal staircase attached to the end of the shelves.

James climbed up the stairs and followed J.T.
through a narrow middle passageway that eventually opened up into
what looked like a woodworking shop. Natural light shown in from
the opaque skylight directly above the area. Shelves lined the open
space with what appeared to be wood carvings of mostly people's
faces. James noticed that the faces on one end of the area were
filled with pain. Some were crying, some were simply sad, and
others looked like the faces of despair and anguish. As he moved
down the line, he noticed the faces began to change. They began to
display softer emotions, even happiness, some of them bordering on
what could be described as joy. J.T. remained silent as he watch
James taking it all in. Only when it was apparent that James had
surveyed the whole area did J.T. speak.

“
As I'm sure you've read in the
manual, everyone here has to have a hobby.” He spread his arms out
wide, indicating the sculptures before them. “This is mine – wood
carving.”

James walked up to one of the shelves and picked up
one of the sculptures of a crying woman, looking at it closely and
turning it from side to side so he could see it from different
angles.