James-C-1-opening

 What is James' prison?  Why is he in it? (early signs of institutionalization)

James was one of many men whose desk lined the enormous room on the first floor of Shubert and Shubert Accounting and Financial Management. Each desk had a green chain string glass lamp, a cup of sharpened pencils and a folder of sums to keep record. 

Lattice lines layered top over bottom. The firm frame of numbers and their sums. An iron cell of reason, value could not be argued. James liked that very much. Values and sums were his constant guard; an assurance of right placement.

 The column to the far right guided the pennies and dimes insignificant numbers cells which were worthless until their accumulation overflowed left into the column left of the decimal in into real numbers.  One, tens hundreds and thousands and so on. 

To James life could be categorized in the same way. Nobody wanted to admit it, but James knew it was true. People were treated according to their value. The poor were like pennies, cast aside. Laborer's were  silver coin; kept, but merely for their cumulative value. Tradesman were dollars and low level office workers like James were like a crisp ten dollar bill that perhaps one day, might well make the jump to become a three digit man. The kind of man who had a desk upstairs by a window and a lacky to bring him coffee.

James relied upon the order of sums that held him.  Many men felt constrained by it, but James felt a reliance of order and comfort by it. He could always rely on the construct of sums and their faithful rhythms. The pitfall of a poor investment showing in red and negative signs. But likewise, a life led in  positive choices would of course bring about abundance.

And so, a man could be measured by his sound decisions; a healthy bank account meant and good job, which afforded him the means to take a wife. If he was of considerable means, she would be from a decent family, adding to the positive sums of his contribution, moving them to the next column of value. A higher ranking.

Likewise, false moves of foolishness and passion would take a man into the column to the right and god forbid, into the world of nickels and dimes. The columns of fools, roustabouts and drunks.

It was a simple transaction.

"Damn!" His whispered curse was followed by a frustrated slap of his pencil to his desk top and met by a commanding, "shhhh!" from a skinny neighboring lad who required absolute silence as he worked. He stared down at James from his glasses looking disproportionately annoyed as he erased an error which was most likely James' fault.

James rose from his desk with the paper and made his way to the elevator. It was not the first time this month that James had discovered a significant pitfall. He was starting to make a reputation for himself as being the bearer of bad news. And while the negative sums were not his fault by any means, the men upstairs were not averse to "killing the messenger". As the elevator door closed in on James, he thrust his right hand into his pocket to keep it from shaking, took a deep breath and pressed the button for the second floor.

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The snow fell softly around the tint dancer inside the Snow globe. Jackie like to watch closely to see just where each fleck might land. Sometime a tiny flake would land perfectly on the dancers hand, raised and reaching elegantly in epaulet; a tiny delicate jewel atop her imploring expression.

One of Jackie's clients had given it to her.  The Judge.  Jackie was his favorite girl and he often came twice week to the Bordeaux. His wife was sick and had been for years and though he loved her dearly, he required the company of a woman regularly for he still had the vigor of a young man. Though he was ruddy and fat, he was good natured and gentle with the girls and they would often fight to entertain him. But he liked Jackie best of all and her room was lined with magazines he brought her.

Jackie couldn't read the words but the pictures felt like being in a dream. Dresses and hairdos, cakes and powder! Pictures of handsome men smoking with dapper haircuts! 

Jackie had a vivid imagination and while the life in the Bordeaux was the only type of life she had ever really known, as her mother was a whore like she was, the magazines helped her picture the way the other half might live and she would imagine herself as one of them any chance she had in between patrons, when she woke up and especially when she lay in bed at night.  She would imagine her husband working late that she was a housewife and that she had just put her child to sleep. 

Jackie put on a satin robe and sauntered down for breakfast. As she buttered her toast dreamily, lost in her own thoughts Bridgette moaned, "Here she is, the queen of Sheba!" She smacked Jackie's bottom with such a jostle that she dropped the butter knife. Bridgette was the loudest, most vulgar whores! "You're just jealous Quasimodo!" Sadie was always to the rescue for Jackie.  The girls were roommates and while she was almost ten years younger than Sadie, they got along just fine.

Jackie chuckled at the jape. It was true, Bridgette's eye was slightly smaller on one side to the other.  Sadie bellowed from the corner and sipped her coffee, staring down Bridgette with a protective eye. "Shouldn't you pick up the knife you dropped, Sheba?" Jackie knew better. Bridgette was just looking to make another tease out of Jackie in some humiliating way. Sadie sidled up next to Jackie, "Sailors came into port last night...lotta boys looking for a discount shag Bridge, I suppose you'll be real busy this week!"

Bridgett snickered bitterly but added as she left the room, "Least I'll enjoy myself. Unlike miss Sheba with a broken cunt!" That was the blow that Jackie always hated. It was bad enough what she had discovered about herself. She had told Sadie and Bridgette not realizing she was the only one and Bridgette had told all of the girls.  Now she was a main attraction, but all for a tease. No one could believe it, even Madame Lou, and she had truly seen it all. But a whore who couldn't come, that was a first even for the Madame of the Bordeaux.

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"Do you enjoy finding errors, son?" It was not the kind of question James liked to answer. Mr. Talbert Looked unamused. 

"I beg your pardon sir but I do believe that is what I am paid to do." James did not waiver from his stance but he knew it was another annoyance. 

"The papers will have to be re-submitted. James, the pitfall was miniscule and considering the sum I am surprised you are brining this to my attention."

"But our patron is owed a sum of money!" James protested on the side of honor.

Mr. Talbert pounded his fist on his desk, "At the cost of our labor! I will write a check for a dollar thirty seven and loose six hours labor of the companies money to process this!  The whole file must be re-done now James! On top of that I have a very challenging file I am already working on, and my daughter is getting married this weekend! I just don't have the time!"

"Why don't you let me work on the challenging file?" James realized he had dug himself into a hole.  The least he could do is offer to fix the problem he found.

"You work on the file? Do you know whose account this is?" Mr. Talbert shook the file in frustration.

"Henry Bane is lawyer. I don't expect you to know the particulars of this situation. Besides that, I'm afraid what is waiting on the end of this file is-" He trailed off, lost in thought for just a moment. "-Yes, maybe that is just the right solution." He handed the file to James. "Stay late tonight, as long as it takes.  It must be done Monday."

James looked at the clock.  It was almost five. The sun was about to set. He shifted uncomfortably. "I have to go at five, you see, I have a meeting- I have to...to be somewhere."

"Well.." Mr. Talbert moved in closer. "Between you and me son, you can talk the file for the weekend. But if anyone catches you, I never said. Just get it done and back to my desk on Monday, understood?"

James did understand. The file was important, and for reasons beyond him, he was being trusted with it. To prove himself to an important client. This, was an opportunity!