Rachel Cantor - A Highly Unlikely Scenario, or a Neetsa Pizza Employee's Guide to Saving the World

The grandmother of your grandsons

The phone bleated again.

Lenny, the man said, I need you to listen good. You need to quit this job and do as I say.

Quit my job? Are you crazy? I prepared my whole life to be a Listener!

You prepared many lifetimes to be a listener, which is why you gotta quit this job.

Never! If I quit my job, I’ll never get it back. Neetsa Pizza doesn’t like traitors.

Understand: there will be no more calls, already you answer your last call. Now you do as I say.

Why? You have to tell me why!

The world needs you.

I can’t help the world: I never leave my White Room. I like it here.

There can be no more White Room. Is time for you to meet her.

Who? Isaac, you’re asking too much of me.

Is time for you to meet the grandmother of your grandsons.

Signs and wonders

Leonard hung up the phone. This Isaac whoever-he-was was too cruel. First he squeezed Leonard’s heart pretending to be his grandfather, the only person besides Felix who’d ever truly loved him, then he gave him a friend and took him away, and then he took what was left of his heart, that very small bit of secret hope that maybe someday, somehow, someone who wasn’t a child might love him, and he squeezed that too! All the while pretending to be blind! Was Leonard so obvious? Could anyone see into his heart? The world was even scarier than he’d thought. He slumped to the floor and put his head into his hands.

When the phone bleated again, Leonard ignored it. When it was silent, he picked it up and heard a sound like air that had been dead for centuries; it sent a chill down his spine, or maybe that was the sudden cold coursing through his room — a mighty wind, actually, a mighty polar wind. Medusa, the neighborly cat, yowled outside. Shivering, Leonard tried to coax her in through the cat-chimney, or even through the door, thinking she might warm him, but she wouldn’t cross the threshold, nor would she leave off yowling.

I’m not listening! Leonard shouted, and the ground started to shake, the sixty-day seal on his grandfather’s closet popped open, the opaque flimsies on his windows became translucent, letting in great light — and from the corner of his eye, he saw movement on his screen: it was his grandfather, wearing his worn brown caftan, gesticulating to a small boy. He and the boy were on the settee in the White Room, before it was a White Room, as the room had been when his grandfather was alive. The boy had a brown afro and a T-shirt that read “I Love Grandpaw.”

Boychik, the grandfather said to the little boy, there will come a day when I will no longer be with you …, and the boy said, Don’t say that, Grandpa! I don’t like it when you say that! and the old man said, Boychik, I need you to listen good. A man will come for you named Isaac. I don’t know how he comes but you gotta do how he says. Remember this, because I won’t be here to tell you! And the boy said, No! I’m not listening! and he put his fingers in his ears and shouted, La, la, la, la! The grandfather smiled and shrugged his shoulders at the adult Lenny, as if to say, Look at yourself! What a boy!

Had that happened? Leonard was shaking. This wasn’t a Neetsa Pizza test, this wasn’t the joke of a loony — this was real, whatever real was.

The phone bleated and Leonard picked it up.

What do you need me to do? he asked.

This is more like it, Isaac said.

We hate traitors

The room was quiet again and no longer a White Room. Leonard had opened the door and let in Medusa, who deposited a dead chipmunk by the cat-chimney. He was yanking the flimsies off the windows when the phone began to ring like a siren.

Yes, sir, Leonard said.

High Command advises that there has been a breach of the White Room.

Yes, sir, Leonard said. I have to take a break, that’s all, which is to say, I can’t work for you anymore.

Medusa jumped on his lap and began to purr.

It’s not the Heraclitan Grill, is it? Our Listeners are never happy there. They come crawling back, but you know our policy.

Yes, sir, you don’t like traitors.

You know the only support they get is a can of Flame-Off for if they set themselves alight.

I know, Leonard said.

Was it the attack on our pizza grottos? They’re under control now, you know.

I hadn’t heard about that. No, it’s something else. I can’t talk about it.

You recall that you signed an echemythia agreement?

I agreed to be silent about—

Our recipes ingredients White Room Pythagorean Papers soul tracing aptitude tests meditation scripts algorithms policies and punishments.

Punishments?

You signed the agreement. Keep it and you’ll have nothing to worry about.

Right, Leonard said. I won’t tell anyone.

We know about your true-ray blocker.

Goodbye, sir.

Don’t you come crawling back! We hate traitors!

For the second time that night, the doorbell rang. It was Carol and Felix.

I saw the shades were up. You okay?

I quit my job.

Good, Carol said. You can watch Felix. Don’t worry if I don’t come back straightaway. I’m going to a book-club convention.

She was wearing her climbing suit and dust cap and was carrying not her usual clutchbag but a six-gallon grabbag over her shoulders.

Go on, Felix. Uncle Leonard will take care of you.

She pushed her son forward but he clung to the ridges of her climbing suit.

Don’t go, Mommy! Please don’t go!

Big boy, Felix. Clootie dumplings and head cheese in the freezer, lucre in the peanut-butter jam square jar.

She pecked Felix’s cheek and, before he could grab her waist, slid down the garage chute and cycled off on her Roadster.

Come on, Felix, Leonard said. I have something amazing to show you: the White Room isn’t white anymore!

Really? Felix sniffed. Can I wear my lumberjack suit in there?

Yup.

And my peaked cap?

You can wear anything you like.

Wow, Felix said, trying to take that in.

We can de-white the walls, Leonard said. I think we should do that right now, don’t you?

Can’t go back there

While Felix was changing, Leonard thought about what Isaac had said. Go to the University Library. That’s all. The rest will happen and you will know what to do.

What do you mean? Leonard had said.

Go to the University Library, Isaac said. The rest will happen and you will know what to do.

Oh, Leonard said. Will I meet her there?

Really! Mebbe you can trust me just a little?

How will I know it’s her?

You mean, will she give you refreshment from a well?

Isaac was being sarcastic. Leonard decided not to ask.

I haven’t left the house in three years.

I know, Isaac said. And tomorrow you will.

I’m a little scared, Leonard said.

Bring Felix.

He has school, Leonard said.

No he doesn’t.

Then he was gone.

When Felix arrived back at the no-longer-white room, Leonard could see he’d opted for his rainbow suit and shiny slippers.

Good choice, Leonard said.

Felix beamed.

You having a problem with school? Leonard asked.

Mom’s taken me out. I have to be underground-schooled with other kids in her book group. No more brainwashing. That was before she got the call on her red pocket phone and went off. My teacher said, Raise an ignoramus for all I care. So Mom called her an imperialist tool. I don’t think I could go back even if I wanted to, which I don’t.

Not to worry, Leonard said. I’ll take you to the University Library tomorrow. You’ll learn a lot there, we both will.

But as they commenced to drawing on the walls of the no-longer-white room, Leonard couldn’t help but wonder what.