Slow Writing (Patreon)

I'm not in love with the name of this story. If you have a suggestion don't keep it to yourself. I've thought about "Pen Pals", "Isotopes", and "Where's Greta?" as alternative titles. Be that as it may, enjoy the story.

Where’s Greta?

“Why is there a mannequin sitting at your desk?” Claudia said.

The mannequin in question was a hyper-realistic effigy of a short, blond woman. It sat with its left leg on the seat tucked under its right leg, its right foot dangling in the air. It was leaned over the desk apparently writing something on a sheet of paper in front of it.

“That’s not a mannequin,” Ryan said. “That’s a person. She’s just moving really, really slowly.”

“That’s ridiculous.”

“Yeah, normally, I’d agree. Don’t touch her or the paper. But read what’s written on the paper.”

Claudia walked over to the desk and looked at the paper. There were two distinct sets of handwriting on the paper engaged in a written conversation:

• What’s your name?

Audrey Hiddles

• What happened to you?

How are you doing this? What do you mean?

• You are moving really, really slow. At first I thought you were a mannequin. But I noticed you were moving imperceptibly slowly. What happened to you?

I don’t know. Who are you? I can’t see y-- how did you make that photo appear? Why is the sky always gray? Where’s Ro–

The pen it was holding was at the end of what appeared to be the top of a ‘b’ it was writing. In the margin next to that paragraph was a note written by the first handwriting: “Spell his whole name out and a phone number if you can.”

“Who’s Rob?”

“I have no idea. All I know is based on past performance, it’ll be a week at least for her to write out Robert. And for all we know, the name is Roberta which will add at least another day.”

“I’m still having trouble believing you.”

“Well, you wanted to go see a movie. Let’s go out. When we get back the ‘b’ should be finished a new letter will be starting to form.”

* * *

True to his word, when they returned, the ‘b’ was finished and a line next to it sat at an angle that might turn into an ‘e’ eventually.

“Incredible. How slow is she moving?” Claudia waved her hands in front of the woman’s face. “Can she see my hand?”

“Most likely not. I think she’s moving ten thousand times slower than we are. That means in a week, she experiences about one minute.”

“So, even if you find out her name and where she came from, by the time you might be able to act on it, you might be an old man.”

“Or dead. Yes. A day for her is over twenty-six years for us and she’ll spend eight or nine of those years asleep.”

“All these numbers are making my head hurt. Where did you find her?”

“A friend of mine gave her to me. Her eyes were closed. I think she was asleep.”

“Where could she have been sleeping for years that no one noticed?”

“In a box, in the backroom of an abandoned building. There were a dozen other mannequins in the box. But none of them were as realistic as she was. Tim knew I’d want to see her. He was surprised because her eyes were closed when he put her in the car and open when he got here.”

“She must be freaking out.”

“Or it’s become normal for her. Who knows? She seemed really interested when I got her into the chair there and put the paper in front of her.”

“How long ago was that?”

“Hmm.. A couple months ago. If you look for it, you can see she’s groggy from having just woken up.”

“Could she drink coffee if you made it for her?”

Ryan considered it for a moment. “Aside from the problem of keeping it hot, I have no idea how it wouldn’t just spill down out of her mouth. Once it started leaving the mug, she wouldn’t be able to stop it from leaving the mug for several minutes. And even if she could take a tiny sip, it would probably take a couple weeks for her to notice the mug, pick up the mug, drink, put the mug down, and then resume answering my questions on the paper.”

“You were able to sit her down at the desk. She’s gotta be flexible. Couldn’t you put the mug in her hands, close to her mouth to save time?”

“Just because I said she’s probably use to these body position jumps doesn’t mean she doesn’t freak out about them sometimes.”

* * *

“Hello?”

“Robert Zybel?”

“Yes, who is this?”

“My name is Ryan Chambers. What do you know about mannequins that can move?”

“Oh, my god, have you found Audrey?”

“So you know about her and her condition?”

“It was only supposed to be for a few weeks.”

“What do you mean?”

“Do you have her? Is she safe?”

“Yes. What happened to her?”

“It was only supposed to be for a few weeks.”

* * *

“Did it work?”

“Look at the clock.”

“Three hours? It only felt a few seconds.”

“That was the idea wasn’t it. You can spend a month or two in the window and it’ll only feel like five or six minutes.”

“Maybe that’s to much of a speed up. I like being able to see the people looking at me.”

“Well. This is the speed that worked. We can perfect that for the next time you do it.”

“I guess. Greta said I could be the window mannequin any time I liked as long as it lasted at least a couple months.”

“It lasts until it’s reversed so the duration isn’t an issue.”

“Oh, well, if she wants me for more than a couple months, do that. I already downsized by stuff when I moved in with you. I can easily spend half a year as a window mannequin. And anything she pays me is pure profit since I have no expenses.”

“No expenses?”

“No rent, no car, no food. There’s a few hundred dollars outstanding on my credit card. I can pay that all off before you zap me. And the whole reason to do this is to pay off my student loans. If I can clear a couple grand a month with no expenses, I can pay it down in a couple years as a mannequin. If I can find a store willing to pay enough.”

“I have that covered. Greta is renting you for two hundred a week to start. That’s almost a thousand a month. And maybe word of mouth will get you a different gig at a higher rate a few months from now.”

“So, when can you spin up the machine again?”

“Tomorrow night, it should be ready.”

“We have time for a date night tonight?”

“That was my plan.”

* * *

“The next day she stepped into the Temporal Displacer…”

“Temporal Displacer?” Ryan said. They were sitting in a coffee shop a few blocks away from Ryan’s apartment where Audrey was still writing at his desk.

“That’s what I call the device that alters an object’s perception of time. Once she was displaced…”

“By ten thousand times?”

“Close. It’s actually a ratio of nine thousand, five hundred seventy-one point six eight to one.But, ten thousand is easier for quick calculations,” Robert said. He was a middle aged man of slight build.

“So, what happened?”

“I don’t really know. I delivered her to Greta’s store and she was so excited by how realistic the mannequin looked.”

“She didn’t know the mannequin was a real person.”

“Not as such,” he said ruefully. “I came back each month on the same day and Greta would pay me and ask if we could extend the contract. Audrey wanted to pay off her loans so I figured I would let it ride another month. After fifteen months, when I returned to the store it was empty. All the merchandise, gone. All the signs taken down. And Audrey, missing. I called the management company for the strip mall about it and they said the owner of the store canceled their lease and moved out two weeks earlier. They had no idea why.

“I asked the neighboring stores what they knew and they were just as surprised. They each said the store had had normal foot traffic the day before it closed. There was never a going out of business sale. Just one day no one showed up to open the store. A couple days later, the contents of the store were completely removed. One of the store owners said he walked over and asked the movers if they knew why the store closed. They didn’t. The only strange thing for them was they were hired that morning and paid an unusually high fee for a store closing. Stores that close usually don’t have a lot of money to throw around.”

“Weird. I guess you check out. Give me your address and I’ll bring Audrey over tomorrow so you can restore her.”

“You don’t have to do that. I can just take her off your hands today.”

“I want to see your machine. I feel as though I should get to talk to Audrey and she can talk back in real time.”

“I have your number. I’ll have her call you once it’s done.”

“Why are you being evasive?”

The man sighed. “The machine stopped working.”

“What? When?”

“About six months after she was transformed, it just stopped working. I have no idea why. I worked on it day and night for over nine months. I replaced every part I could conceivably replace.”

“Why did you stop?”

“I stopped a couple weeks after I found out she was gone and I ran out of leads. It was just heartbreaking to think that even if I fixed the machine, there was no point. Audrey was gone.”

“You seem okay with it now.”

“You don’t understand. That was fifteen years ago. I’ve moved on for the most part. I got married twelve years. We have two kids. The only connection to Audrey that remains is the boxes the machine is stored in and her clothing and possessions that I haven’t had the willpower to go through and dispose of.”

“Fifteen years?” I burst out laughing and I regretted it immediately given how his face dropped. “Sorry. It just struck me that Audrey hasn’t even experienced a whole day since you used the machine on her.”

“No, I suppose she hasn’t.”

“She did sleep through most of it,” Ryan said. He told Robert how he had guessed she had woken up just a few months ago.

“That kind of makes sense. It was late afternoon, maybe four o’clock, when it was done. For her body, it’s probably around seven thirty in the morning the next day.”

“You said you tried replacing everything you could conceivably replace on the machine. Where there things inconceivable to replace?”

“Yes. There was an expensive isotope I can’t really afford to purchase.”

“What happened to it? Did it decay to non-existence?”

“I’m not at liberty to say.”

“Were you making this machine as part some kind of research?”

“I’m not at liberty to say.”

“You know how to fix it. You just can’t acquire the materials.”

“In layman’s terms, yes. You really should give Audrey to me and forget about her.”

“What’ll happen to Audrey?”

* * *

“Are you sure you want to do this?” Robert said. “I can test on non-living matter. A few days here or there won’t harm her.”

“I got you your isotope. I want to see what I paid for.”

“Suit yourself. I’ll pull you both out after two weeks so you’ll only have two minutes of Displaced time.”

“That sounds perfect.”

One moment he stood in the well-lit basement of Robert’s home. The next minute, he was still in the basement but it was dimly lit.

“Who are you?” A woman said.

He turned to look in the direction of her voice. It was Audrey. “Audrey?”

“Yes. How are we talking?”

“I’m here to rescue you.”

“How could that work?”

“Actually, Robert is going to rescue us both. It should only take a couple minutes.”

“If Robert can rescue me, why are you here?”

“I’m Ryan, by the way. I’m the guy you were writing to a few minutes ago.”

“Oh, I was so startled when the desk disappeared. I haven’t experienced anything like that since the store disappeared. What happened to Greta?”

“No idea. A friend of mine found you at an estate sale and thought I’d like to have you.”

“I’m seeing someone else.”

“Not exactly.”

“What do you mean?”

“It’s been sixteen years since you were put on display at Greta’s store. Robert is married and has two kids, Penny and Dréa are eleven and eight respectively. I just met them a couple hours ago normal time. Nice kids.”

“Sixteen years? Why didn’t Robert….?”

“That’s a long story. You can ask him when you see him. I’ll just say it wasn’t his fault. None of it was his fault.”

Before she could answer she disappeared.

“Audrey? Robert?”

He knew he should relax. The machine would take a day to recycle, two tops. That was like seventeen seconds for two days to go by. He would be back in no time.

He started laughing after the first minute passed. He could see the workbenches and the Displacer machine. An open notebook suddenly appeared on the workbench. At the same time, the Displacer machine looked like someone had taken a sledge hammer to it. A single word was written on the open page of the notebook in Audrey’s handwriting. It was circled a couple times: Sorry.