CHAPTER 15: LIFE IN THE BILLION DOLLAR BIRDCAGE

Burke woke to the sound of the alarm clock ringing. He starred in disbelief at the glowing numbers next to his bed: 5:13. He couldn't believe that 5:13 could happen so early. He dragged his body slowly out of bed one sorry leg at a time. He couldn't remember ever feeling so heavy. Then he remembered the diet. The program. Right then it didn't seem to be working very well. He worked his way slowly and steadily toward the toilet.

5:20 Morning routine. He had been rehearsing this particular version of the routine for years without changes, waiting for the day of his final performance. Burke was a creature of habit. Every morning brought about lots of bodily maintenance; with 80 percent of it focused on making his head look good: Showering, Shaving. Brushing. Just a dash of fragrance behind the ears--the good stuff. "Damn if I ain't a wrinkled mess" he thought to himself. His diet seemed to have produced extra skin. He considered stopping the diet before he totally resembled a Shih Tzu.

He could smell the coffee brewing as he headed for the kitchen. His favorite: hazelnut spice. The aroma seemed to hail to him; GOOD MORNING you sleepy-eyed son-of-a-bitch! It was well worth the extra drive to the coffee shop for those exquisite beans. He stopped on his way to it for a final survey of his appearance. The blue suit was classic. It always created a powerful appearance. He needed a haircut, and considered having Maggie try to squeeze one in today. Grabbing the coffee and his briefcase on the way out, he charged for the elevator down to the garage.

Driving into the city had become an arduous chore every day. He had figured out that he could maximize his commute by breaking it into two stages: Drive to train depot, where he could check his voice mail; ride the red-line in, where he could check his off-line E-mail. This he called his power commute.

So the drive began. "Good-morning Mr. Burke. Today is March Eight Nineteen Ninety-nine. You have (pause)(pause)(pause) twelve (pause)(pause) new messages today. Press 2 to (beep)(pause) beep, beep. Message 19 from an unknown number. Delivered at 5:15 P.M. yesterday..."

He was at one with the system. The robot E-mail operator talked more to him than most human beings did. She was never cross with him no matter how many times a day he hung up on her.

Burke was able to scroll through seven messages before pulling into the train depot with only one near traffic mishap that almost occurred because he was trying to pause the message and jot down a number, while turning a corner.

Once onto the train he could really get something done. He was setup to download E-mail throughout night. In the morning he could begin processing messages on the train. Once in the office, he would dock his PC; it would go to work sending and receiving while he could begin the next task usually on the floor. He began scrolling through the notes.

Hmm Junkmail

Hmm Junkmail

Hmm Junkmail

There were several from the Internet. He read the header info in the first note playing the Guess who sent me the note game. It came from Australia. Probably more junkmail. Every year he seemed to get tagged onto more and more lists. One of the trappings of power.

The note window opened and he looked at the message in disbelief. Was this a joke?

What the hell was this supposed to mean? The message was not signed. He did not delete it though. He would come back and solve this riddle when he had more time.

He walked briskly to his building, it would probably be the only exercise that he would get today. The first line of defenses were the guards and the receptionist:

"'Morning Mr. Burke"

"Good-Morning Mr. Burke"

"Good Morning Mr. Burke. Thank-you for the lovely flowers."

Onward and upward. To the seventeenth floor. He smiled to himself. The music in the elevator was a completely castrated version of Getting Agitated by Going Postal. The accordion playing the lead guitar lines made it sound ridiculous. "That's how you know you really made it" Burke thought to himself. "When they cut the nuts out of your music and pipe it in a elevator. I hope they're collecting royalties at least."

He entered the office like a linebacker. Head down. Trying to break through the line of workers, eagerly awaiting a slice of his time. Maggie had privilege of course; office hierarchies like baboon communities had absolute rules.

She handed him a Styrofoam cup of office coffee. "Good Morning Banyon. Would you like your agenda or news first?"

"Thank-you Maggie. I'm really trying to cut back on the caffeine though."

"I've seen how you get without it. Drink the coffee. It's fresh. I just made it."

"Agenda first." Burke was still making way toward his office with Maggie trailing behind like a puppy on a leash.

"Arthur wants to see you first thing. He wants to discuss something in the Monroe Package. Said it was important. He left me three voice mails before seven."

"To bad. I've got no time for Arthur right now. Make up a story-tell him I'll be out all morning. What else?"

"You have appointments until twelve-fifteen. The steering committee is at ten, I'll remind you a few minutes before. I booked a haircut for you and twelve-thirty."

"Thanks Maggie. I love you."

"No sense in telling you the rest, you're only going to ask me again in a little while."

"Thank you."

"Oh yes. There's a package on your desk. It shipped from Australia."

"I got an E-mail from Australia today. What a coincidence."

Burke entered his office and immediately docked his PC. He sat down and glanced that the sign he had placed over the door to the outer office. It said SLOW DOWN. If I only could, he thought. He spun his chair around to survey the world on the other side of the glass. It was a dazzling view, like a man-made canyon with rivers of autos down below. His 90's version of a nature trip. He gazed across the chasm to the glass clad bluffs on the other side and wondered who was over there wondering about him.

He could see the backwards reflection of the clock in the window looking like an artificial sun in a hostile sky. Seven-Fifteen. Time to get going. He separated his mail into two piles and discarded the left pile. He attention drifted to the package. He wondered if it was OK to open or whether it would explode, so he shook it. He could hear styrofoam peanuts rattling around inside. Do bomb makers ship their devises of destruction in styrofoam peanuts? He wondered.

He slowly opened the box and found a small painting inside. It was a painting of himself. Much younger. Thinner. What a dazzling smile. It was a good likeness. Whoever painted it must have used a photo for a guide. There was a note card in the box as well. It had a still life of fruit on the cover, with hand written note inside that said:

How about the Aussie tonight? 8:30?

Whoever sent this also sent the E-mail. He wished that he had time to figure this one out. It sure is interesting he thought. The writing looked familiar. He placed the painting on the credenza behind him. He would take it home tonight being self conscious about making his office into a shrine of himself. Over the years he won countless awards and honors, but he made it a rule never to flaunt his past accomplishments.

Burke got lost in the work; lost quite deeply. He turned his energy and focus to high gear, losing all sense of self. As a result time flew and before he knew it, Maggie was trying to usher him out for his haircut.

"Cancel Maggie. I don't have time today" he told her.

"Nonsense Banyon you do have time. I've made time for you." He rolled his eyes and realized it was pointless to argue. He was getting a haircut. "How about in the office?" he asked with a glimmer of hope.

"Go on out Banyon. It's a big world out there. Get some fresh air. Things are fine here" she said while grabbing him by the arm and escorting him toward the door.

"But I've got E-mail."

"It'll keep."

Burke did go out for a haircut. The mystery had put him in an unusually good mood. The barber even noticed and after the haircut, gave Burke a cigar. Burke remembered when he used to get a lollipop. He was feeling alive.

Once back in the office time slowed down in the afternoon. He went through the motions for the rest of his day; working lunch; tele-conference, video conference, and Maggie's annual performance review. Every time he turned around to take a fifteen second "nature trip," out the window between appointments, he saw the painting and wondered who sent it.

On the way home he wondered if he should go to the Ausie, or have dinner at home. "Sure glad I didn't tell Maggie about the note" he thought. "She would have made me go for sure." It probably was someone trying to scam him for a donation of some sort.

It was with mixed emotions that he entered the Ausie. He wasn't sure what to expect as he walked over to the bar. He ordered his usual, a Rob Roy as he scanned the plateau for beer nuts.

"Aren't you even going to say hi?" a voice said.

Burke turned to the lady on the seat next to him. She was very beautiful. Very beautiful. He starred at her for a moment almost disbelieving what he was seeing. It Was SUNNI!

After all these years she still was breath taking. Even more so now. Age had worked in her favor. All he could do was stare with a dumbfounded look on his face.

"Well, aren't you even going to say hi?" she asked again.

"Sunni. Sunni how are you. Where have you been all these years? How..." Burke truly was speechless.

"No Bany, you're not having an Acid Flashback. I'm really here, here to see you. How are you?" she asked him back. "Let me look at you." Sunni took both his hands in hers and looked at Burke for a long time. Her eyes seem to drink him up. She wore a slight smile. Her hands as usual were icy cold; but her face was warming.

Not knowing exactly where to begin Burke jumped in. "Where have you been?" he demanded.

"Australia."

"Australia. Ah! that explains the note and the picture. It's very good. Did you have someone paint it for you?"

"Very funny Banyon."

"Where's the joke? As I said it's very good. Looks like it was painted from a photo."

Sunni paused and looked at Burke in disbelief. "I painted it from my heart."

"YOU painted it?"

"Oh come on now. Are you going to tell me that you didn't know that I Paint?" Sunni broke into her adorable pout. She still did that, and it had the same effect on Burke's internal chemistry that it always had.

"Never knew it."

"Banyon, I majored in Art, painted all the time. I painted countless paintings of you. I paint now for a living. Even your secretary Maggie has heard of me. It's not that I'm famous, but my work does get around."

"Maggie? You know Maggie?"

"Yes I do."

"I don't believe it. Prove it."

"Well lets see. I called you last year and Maggie and I ended up chatting for a while. She knew of my works and had even purchased one of smaller paintings. Since then we've become good friends. I've painted two for her just because I like her so much-she's a great person. Also there's a picture hanging in your office somewhere of that spot where you cooled off my back years ago. Know which one I'm talking about? I painted and sent it to her so you would remember that day. You're a lucky guy to have such a wonderful person working with you."

"Wow! I always thought that the scene was familiar. Every time I looked at it I felt like I was there before. Tell me who did you take with you to paint it? And did you manage to keep your shirt on?"

"Why Banyon Burke, after all this time I still think you might be a bit jealous. You know I don't kiss and tell."

"No you don't, anyway thank you for that painting. The office will never look the same to me. About Maggie-you're right. I know it. I think that it's great that you know her. Its a small world after all." Burke was feeling a bit embarrassed; first at not knowing that she painted but more important in the back of his mind he was playing scenes from that day. The confused feelings he felt. That wonderful time by the stream. Sunni in that devastating black dress in the limo. Knowing that sooner or later the conversation will drift back to that night. Trying to anticipate what to say. "When I think about that place in the painting, it seems kind of blurred. Like a water color."

"You are romanticizing a bit don't you think? You were probably dizzy. The blood was rushing to somewhere else besides your brain as I recall..."

"How would you know?"

"I checked! Bany, it's so comforting to know that I can still make you blush when I want to!" She said in a seductively teasing tone.

Sunni continued. "Seems that you're doing great. Maggie says that you're a CIO. What is that anyway?"

"CIO stands for Chief Information Officer. What that means to the average person is that I'm the Lord Computer Geek."

"Geek huh? Gee that's great-I think. Anyway she tells me how busy you are-and what a recluse you are. Is it true that you're too busy to have a personal life?"

"Did Maggie tell you that? Wait 'till I see her tomorrow! Of course I have a personal life. A very fulfilling one I can assure you. I see lots of people, do lots of things. Fun things. Like playing golf. And going to corporate outings-stuff like that."

"Isn't golfing part of your business? And corporate outings?" Sunni wore her coy smile.

"Listen, whatever Maggie told you, I've got a wonderful life, in fact I do so much that there aren't enough hours in the day to do them all."

"Sorry Bany, I didn't mean to put you on the defense. I'm sure you do have a wonderful life. But it's so different from mine. You know, most days I wake up and think: Do I want to paint at the shore today, or in the studio? -- oh maybe I'll just take a walk and think about it. Like that."

"Well if I thought like that I wouldn't get anything done."

"Well what do you do?"

"I break my day up into fifteen minute segments. You can't saturate the mind any more than fifteen minutes and have absolute concentration. If you try, your mind will start drifting and tricking you. That's why television takes a show and presents it in fifteen minute segments followed by several minutes of advertisements. After fifteen minutes, you mind is looking for diversion, and what a great service it is to sell something while giving the mind a break." Burke felt somewhat foolish after making this statement. Since he had entered the bar, his pager had gone off three times which further emphasized how segmented and parsed out his life had become.

"And to think of all those mental services that I've fast forwarded through-aren't you going to get that?" Once again Burke's pager was summoning.

"Sorry about the interruptions" he apologized. "It's just that I'm working on a very expensive project that is in the sensitive stage. I've requested that a mainframe page me at predetermined intervals to provide system status." He tried to switch it to silent mode without her being aware of it, but without looking at the display he was making bad menu choices. The pager kept beeping in response to the choices that he was making.

"Let me get this straight. You are telling me that you are continually being interrupted by a computer? What has life come to?"

"I know it's hard to understand but it is a service that I requested."

"At what point does Pavlov become the subject of the experiment? I think that dogs are salivating because they love making him press that button. They are thinking If we drool that fool will keep pressing the button! At least it's more entertaining that looking at the wall. "

"Very funny."

"Let's change the subject" she said knowing that she won a round. "How about dinner. Have you eaten?"

"Great." They moved to a nearby table and began a new topic.

"So-What brings you to the 'States?" he asked trying to head in a positive direction.

"Two things actually, Bany. I've got an art show this week in town. I'm a bit nervous because this is the first time I've 'played' Chicago. Don't know how they will receive my work."

"Don't worry you'll do fine-what was the other thing?"

"Oh yes, I've got wonderful news! Rupert is getting married."

"Rupert? Do I know a Rupert?"

"Mostly-Bob...tell me you've forgotten Mostly-Bob."

"Oh him. Hadn't thought about him in years. How is he doing anyway? Getting married you say huh?"

"Yes next week. I'm here to invite you to the wedding."

"Sunni, I'd love to take a day off and attend, but as you are probably finding out, time will simply not allow it. Where is the ceremony at anyway?"

"In Wakefield."

"Wakefield-there is no way could I take a few days off. That would be quite impossible."

"But Bany, he's an old friend." She went into pouting mode again.

"I'll send him a nice gift, don't you worry. You go on though, have a great time and give him my best. Who's he marrying anyway? Anyone I know?"

"Another old friend-remember Fauna?"

"Fauna? The massage parlor queen? Really. Well who would have guessed."

"Things are not what they seem Bany, people change."

"Sure they do" he said, politely dismissing her comment. "Well what is Mostly-Bob doing these days?"

"He's an actor, he lives in New York. He's been in lots of things over the years, even television and a few films. He mostly makes commercials these days, and likes the stage the best."

"Really. He made his fantasy come true. Good for him. And he's marrying Fauna eh? At least New York's a good place to run the Velvet Toosh from."

"No Bany, Fauna who now uses her real name Jane made enough money from massages to fund her education-her whole education. She even went on and completed her masters, and now is a professor at one of the city colleges."

"Fauna a professor?"

"Jane a professor. Not only is she a prof, but she's a literary critic for one of the city newspapers."

"Really."

The waiter came and they began the ordering process with Burke glancing and choosing after less than a minute. Being with Sunni again had stimulated many images of the past. He thought about General Marchbank's chipped beef. As he ordered the largest steak on the menu. The waiter had to come back twice before Sunni was ready for her selection though. She couldn't decide, she never really could.

"OK" Burke started again. "Let's hear about your wonderful social life. I've just got to know what I've been missing."

"It's not a better life Bany-it's just different."

"Is there a Mr. Sunni?"

"No not now." She stalled in a way that Burke remembered all too well. He knew he was onto something interesting."

"But there was" he prodded.

"Yes I was married more than once-the third time I thought that it would be the one. But it wasn't." She got quiet again. "Guess I'm just attracted to jerks. I was tempted twice after that for a fourth, and got pretty close but, well..."

"If at first you don't succeed."

"Yeah. Keep falling on your face."

"Three marriages. Any kids?"

"Bany I'd rather not talk about that right now."

"OK, sorry. I didn't mean to press."

"That's OK. So are you going to go?"

"Where?"

"To the wedding of course!"

"I told you that I couldn't Sunni, you never know when to quit."

"What if you had the time, and I bought your train ticket down there?"

"Train. Oh no. I'd never take the train. I'd fly or drive the Lexus. But I will never have the time. I'm sorry--all that, those people, years ago. I've said goodbye."

"You never said goodbye to me" she said sadly.

"No I never did. I never really could-but I came back from Chicago with the intention."

"How long were you back for, two days?"

"I don't know a month?"

"Try Friday and Saturday."

Again silence snuffed out the conversation. They were both feeling a bit hurt. There was something that each wanted to say to each other, but neither one could really formulate the words. They sat for a moment in awkward silence. Luckily they were rescued by salad, rolls and the dinner. The food became a starting point again.

"I hear that kangaroo's are becoming so overpopulated that people are eating them down there" Burke said while stuffing a chunk of steak in his face.

"That's gross, I'm a vegetarian, remember?" She steered back onto him "Hey Burke, would Maggie approve of this dinner? You are on a diet right?"

"Maggie's got way too much control of my life. Oh yeah-that's right." Burke said holding up another chunk of meat. He was driving his fifth Rob Roy now and it seemed the hazier his world got the clearer his vision of Sunni became. Half way through that drink it became apparent that the thing to do was finish what Sunni had started so many years ago in that infamous black limo. She was looking wonderful; energetic, youthful, full of life. He was beginning to think that he wanted her. "How about a cocktail?" He asked her with an artificially inflated smile. Plan was this: Two or three cocktails and back to his place to view her etching of him.

"I don't know Bany, cocktails to straight to my head these days."

"Come on, for old times."

"Well OK. Maybe one."

And so the libation flowed as did the conversation. They found themselves laughing more and more; competing less. Sunni's face relaxed and became a bit flushed. "Bany do you remember when you fell into the campfire proposing a toast to me? We had to stop, drop, and roll you!! Mostly-Bob nearly stomped your head flat-and that part of you wasn't even on fire! That was so funny."

"No that was TJ. He set his head on fire drinking a flaming shot, remember?"

"No, TJ did that too I believe. It seems you guys were always setting your heads on fire.

Banyon stopped and thought for a moment. "Yeah, they did have to put me out once didn't they? That was the day TJ's made a lemonade stand!--remember that?"

"Oh I hadn't thought about that in years. It was a unique approach he had to marketing his product-filling the wading pool up with lemonade. He should have realized that it would have turned into a pool party."

"He didn't even use lemons did he?-- I think it was all booze, after an hour everyone was too wasted to stand. The tub was full of TJ's hair. Yuck! After all that work I remember that my cut of the profits was only twelve cents!"

"I've never been able to look at Wild Turkey since. How about the time we had the Frisbee contest with the petrified pizzas! Remember that? You made me first prize, seems I was always first prize."

"You still are."

"Oh Bany, you still haven't lost it after all these years."

And so another 'round 'n 'round 'n round went round. Sunni was giggling quite loudly now, while Burke was barely making sense. Come on hon, let's get out of here Woooooo!" Burke stood up and the room turned into a centrifuge. He looked across at Sunni. There were three of her faces smiling before him. He tried to squeeze it down to one, and was able to bring the outside two inward a bit, but could not fuse them into one. Plan "B" was to close one eye. This was better. Now there were only two Sunni's. He smiled at her; a stupid smile though it was. The situation was comical to him. He was sure that the Sunni on the right was the real Sunni and the other an impostor. "You're beautiful-wanna go to the drive in and see what's playing?" he asked in an innocent tone. "But not these two" he said gesturing to the two hallucinations of Sunni. "You'll have to disappear to where you came from."

"Are you OK?" Sunni looked deeply into his eyes."

"Yeah sure fine. Just a little dizzy. Where is my cigar?" he demanded."

"You weren't smoking one. Come on. Let me help you." Sunni put her arm around her shoulder and began walking him toward the door. "Where did you park your car?"

"My bar? It's right over there by the bartender!"

"Your car."

"My whaaat?"

"Your car Burke. Your car. Keep it together we're on our way out."

"Vallllllllet"

"Good. I can handle that." They walked on at a wino's pace.

The world liquefied into disconnected colored circles for Burke. Sunni's form became a blonde circle. He could still hear her voice. "He's OK, he just needs fresh air-no he's fine really, he just needs some fresh air." Sunni was leading him down concrete corridors now. Nothing was making too much sense. He heard a voice in his mind asking "Where are you going now Burke; where are you going?"