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Some people came over and asked for their mail and Imad gave it to them. Charlie Palmer tried again. He said, “I want my mail please.”

“What did you say?” Imad said.

“I would like my mail please.”

Imad handed him an envelope. Charlie Palmer opened it up in front of Imad. Inside there were two pictures of his sister’s kids. Imad looked at the pictures and said, “Are these pictures on your property sheet?”

A property sheet was a piece of paper that listed all the property a resident could get for the week. If they didn’t write the item on it, then they couldn’t have that item.

Charlie Palmer said, “No, I didn’t know I was getting any pictures so I didn’t write them on my property sheet.”

Imad took the pictures. “These are going in the storage closet. When you write down on the property sheet that you have two pictures, then I will give them to you.”

“That won’t be for a week.”

“Are you arguing?”

“They’re just pictures, Imad,” Charlie Palmer said.

“No, they are property. You can’t just get any piece of property you want whenever you want it. There are rules at NEOTAP.”

“This is stupid.”

Imad stood there, looking furious. “Stay there, Charlie.”

Imad walked over to the phone and called Heidelberg.

Then Heidelberg came upstairs and said to Charlie Palmer, “To my office. Now.”

They went to her office. I knew it was bad. Imad stood there with a shit-eating grin.

Charlie Palmer came out of Heidelberg’s office crying.

The other guys looked at him but they didn’t say anything. They knew if they said anything Imad would send them to Heidelberg’s office, and they would also be crying.

Monica and I decided to attend a meeting about Protest 2.0 at a local coffee shop. The Protest 2.0 protest had been going on for a month and my city had decided to start protesting the local banks. I had visited the coffee shop many times and just thought it would be interesting to hear a few speeches.

When Monica and I arrived, people were sitting around talking about politics and their college classes.

Local lawyers discussed protest laws and a political science professor spoke to us about tax law. After the question and answer period was over, a young woman went onstage. She was in her mid-twenties and had a pleasant face.

The young woman stood before the microphone holding pieces of paper and said, “Hi, I’m Ashley. I have a poem to read about our current situation. It’s a poem by Sherwood Burke.”

Monica and I looked at each other.

“Sherwood Burke? What the fuck?” I said.

“You think she knows where he is?”

“I don’t know.”

Onstage, Ashley continued. “Sherwood Burke sent me this poem to read here tonight. It’s called ‘You Really Killed the Buffalos for This?’”

She took a drink of coffee and said in a loud voice:

“I only have two justifications

for the death of capitalism

where did the Korean tiger and Buffalo go

I don’t know

into capitalism’s mouth and out

its fuckin’ ass

I don’t care

how good dental care is

and how much fun you have learning Bach on the violin

discussing Plato’s Republic in an

air-conditioned building

because capitalism makes my dick hurt”

After the organized part of the meeting, Monica and I approached Ashley. She was sitting at a table talking to a few people. We introduced ourselves and I said, “I know Sherwood Burke. He was at NEOTAP, but he disappeared recently.”

“I know,” she said.

“You know what?”

“Sherwood and I were in the military together. We dated for a while. He sent me this poem in an email but he didn’t say where he was. He just said to read the poem at local rallies for Protest 2.0. He didn’t say anything else. I asked him why he wasn’t in NEOTAP anymore but he didn’t reply. I think he has a plan.”

“A plan to do what?”

“I don’t know,” she said.

I was doing the body count and could not find Armando Vasquez. I went from the lower-floor to the upper floor several times looking for Armando. I found Lawrence and asked if he’d seen Armando.

“No, but you better find him. Have you checked the passes? He might be out on work-release.”

“Yes, I checked the work passes.”

“Did you check the log book?”

“Yes.”

“Well, look in every room. I’m sure he’s here somewhere.”

I was growing increasingly nervous. What if Armando escaped? What if Armando figured out how to break out of NEOTAP? If Armando escaped, Heidelberg would probably blame me because I did the body count. I considered just marking down his name but if he was really gone, my ass would be screwed.

I checked his room again. I looked under his bed this time.

There was Armando.

I looked at him. He looked me.

He said nothing.

His eyes were ghost-like in the darkness under the bed.

I said, “Armando, get out of there.”

“No.”

I knew I was in deep shit. I was being tested. Heidelberg was somehow going to accuse me of not following procedure.

I said to Armando, “You seriously need to get out of there.”

“No.”

I was becoming really pissed.

“Armando, you need to get out from under there.”

“…have politico problem…”

“What?”

“The case managers no help me. They only help me brain. No have a brain problem. Have politico problem.”

I tried to remember the Spanish I’d learned in college. “Quieres ser escrito arriba?” My Spanish was for sure wrong.

“No, have a politico problem.”

I needed to get him out from under the bed, but I wasn’t allowed to talk to the residents because I was not properly trained in dealing with my fellow human beings. I said fuck it and asked, “What is your problem?”

“Have politico problem.”

“I can’t fix those problems.”

“You no fix anything.”

“If I have to get Imad, you will be in a lot of trouble.”

I stood up and paced around the room. I knew this was bad. I was failing as a guard. I couldn’t even get a resident out from under his bed. Heidelberg was going to fire me. I was never going to get health care and become an adult. I was going to have to go back to working at restaurants and my parents and grandfather would be disappointed in me. I looked under the bed again and no one was there.

“Armando!”

Armando wasn’t there.

I found Lawrence and told him Armando disappeared.

“Go tell Imad,” Lawrence said.

I went to Imad’s office and closed the door. I said to Imad, “Armando disappeared.”

Imad looked at me. He didn’t have a facial expression. He listened like I was explaining something that didn’t matter to him.

Finally, he said, “Okay, I’ll fix it.”

“Where did he go? How does someone disappear?”

Imad said, “Don’t worry, I’ll fix it.”

I left the office. Armando disappeared and no one cared. I saw Imad leave his office and walk to Heidelberg’s office. No one rushed around. Everyone moved without purpose, without a sense of urgency. A human had disappeared and no one cared. What kind of job did I have? After an hour passed, I checked the log book as well as the resident profiles and Armando was gone. There was no evidence of his existence anywhere in NEOTAP.

I was handing out mail and Imad came up to me. “Edward Choffin wants to see you.” I stood there terrified. I knew I was going to get fired. The incident earlier in the morning with Armando was going to be too much to handle. I knew I had fucked it up.