Legend of the Spidery Things Ch. 02

Even though Eugene had sat on the nearest empty bench he could find when he was in the open after exiting that cold structure the new powers had purged emotion from when they transformed it into the municipal house for judicial proceedings, and even though the sleet hit harder as the thrust of the winds were turned up - even the stray frosted flakes that found him and buzzed around his ears, he still felt dizzy from what he'd endured while inside that building he never wanted to go back to; so he reached his hand out to hold the back of the bench like to steady himself, like the bench was a raft and he was out on a stormy sea, and sickness hovered over him ready to envelope him any second.

On another day or in a time not so historical he might kick himself back on this or a similar bench and heck maybe revel in the precipitation or join his fellow regular guys in finding a cozy drinking establishment to flee to and chug a couple high-strength whiskeys; barring such fanciness dear Eugene would surely take notice of the passage of pedestrians or the sound of the trolley dinging to a short stop across the street. The old days he certainly did. The old days he was a carefree kind of regular guy who tried to avail himself of any small joy like a sparkly bauble that came along. The days the new powers took their seats and their decrees rang across what was now their virginal domain - well he still let himself take notice of the world around him; didn't really think they'd go through with it. Had no idea the sophistication of enforcement that accompanied their ensconcing.

But just because he didn't react to what he'd normally react to like the wind and sleet that pelted his face, the sleet which seemed to sweep in from nowhere and like intent on pelting only Eugene, was pelting the paper in his hand so he folded it to slip it in his back pocket but he couldn't just fold it like he wanted to - for one thing the wind whipped it like it was weaker than the paper it was and for the other thing it was like he wanted to forget it existed. Didn't want to look at it once more. But he had to. Had to look at it. Once more.

Held it so the wind didn't push the top half over the text. A few of the frosted flakes saw what the wind was trying and rushed in for one more shot at penetrating Eugene's bubble by littering the leaf he meant to look at. But he just brushed those final few frosted flakes off the white leaf, wishing he could brush away the leaf itself as easy as he brushed away those last few frosted flakes. Maybe he wished those frosted flakes came from a world beyond the one he felt was his and maybe he'd not believed in life existing in other places but now he wished he'd been wrong and they were coming to teach him but to also forgive him. We don't know for sure. Doubt it. What I personally do not doubt is had it been true or something like friendly frosted flakes being real, he'd been the happiest instead of the most forlorn man on that planet if those frosted flakes really could be genuine alien beings and could goggle up that paper from which the darkest sentences glowered at no one but Eugene - shivered at the memory of the basset in the thick specs that typed it all out and did peer over her thick specs at him as he'd stood there in shock, trying to keep from scratching the itch between his shoulder blades; trying to wish away the reality that had come to be his eternal shadow.

His name. His numbers. His... crime. First time offender. Probation officer. Name and rank of his probation officer. Eugene had a probation officer. Eugene had no more autonomy. Lost his freedom. Got a taste of the woman in charge of his loss of liberty or more accurately got a good feel of her personality once they apprehended and then detained him - processing, pre-processing, whatever they called it back then; subjected him to humiliations no man or regular guy ought to go through, especially not for such a crime that should've never been made a crime but they did make it a crime and when done with processing and giving him no recourse to appeal the charge because they had the minimum number of eyewitness including the victim - that was another - not only was Eugene an offender but a victimizer - his offense: victimizing a woman who happened to be born with highly attractive facial features and the ample bosom the good lord intended to inspire a regular guy to look into the nearest heroic feat he could find to throw himself into.

See, Eugene's probation officer exuded an innate set of chemicals that reach into a man's deepest treasure room. It is true these women had learned ways to minimize these emanations. Hoped to someday eradicate them. But at least in this one case, the case of Eugene's probation officer; even with her compliance with what were prescriptive wardrobe measures like to dress in what they called a unisexual - well that's the term they had - you think that's a horrid one they had worse - try gender-neutral - oh they did expend ink for that term. Oh what did I do? Sure wasn't meaning to make my listeners ill. Well don't do it here - outside, close the door, in the bushes. Maggie or a helper gal can decide on the foulness. Well while we can all I wanted to get to was no matter how gender-neutral Eugene's probation officer tried to present herself, she still could not convince Eugene it was such an evil thing to feel licentious ideas about her and the debate lived a long time regarding the degree Eugene lucked out or if such a probation officer fated him to travel that forbidden highway that had an eternal midnight for its sole destination.

Wanted to verify she was as pretty, get a taste of her, taste his probation officer, try to find the optimism in the hell he'd entered, that at least his probation officer was pretty, like she had a touch of immigrant darkness and Eugene had always had a weakness for women exuding touches of immigrant darkness; apply what had always been a legendary charm to get her to explain just what caused a woman to allow herself to take the road least conducive to goodly womanhood; something within Eugene had to believe - had to cling to that rugged root of hope - that just behind those empty windows of eyes - eyes that should be far along being eyes for the bedroom - such a woman just could not really want this world but was only pawn they'd lured and then trapped and maybe threatened her with fates worse than they threatened regular guys with if she didn't cooperatively conform and Eugene wanted to get the word to her that he understood and maybe together they could work something out - they could act out what the Plague of Enlightened Women demanded but be designing ways to stir subversion. And this became a sorrowful lesson for Eugene to learn. Indeed, his probation officer had no intention of working with an offender in subverting or reversing the Plague of Enlightened Women.