¥237,062 (Chapter 7 of 38)

Gil has a lot on his plate. Emojoe, the A.I manager from EverythingStore dangles a "friendly" fleeting offer too good (or horrible depending on how you look at it) to ignore. Meanwhile, his car is losing its marbles, and he's promised Park a v-cast interview. With the Emojoe offer, the house, the v-cast, and the new Gimmee account Park set up, Gil might actually once again be a handsome young man. Well, not so much the handsome part.  

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Weeks went by, and all jokes aside, I really did have to figure out a way to get that money. It was weird how Mr. Bekker knew how much money Amy and I had saved up over the years, but I figured it was just because of his high IQ. A man with an IQ like that could probably figure out anything. Right? I don’t know what my IQ is, and I don’t want to know. I don’t need a number to tell me what I already know. 

The property wasn’t as easy to sell as I thought it would be. With the way the economy was I shouldn’t have been surprised, but I thought with all the magas coming in it would still sell. Although they were desperate, a fair percentage of them still had money. Although a thousand American dollars was only worth about a hundred yuan. Not even. 

The janitor job was a decent wage, and the weekend EverythingStore job would add a little icing. With the house sold I would be close, but close is far when you make the money I was making. I was literally going to have to sell everything I owned. My car was nearly worthless and took you to the wrong place half the time. And it wouldn’t even admit it, the stubborn thing. 

“Judas, where are we?” I remembers saying one day. 

“I’m pretty sure this is the right place, Gil.” 

“I’m pretty sure it ain’t.”

“I took you where you requested, Gil.” 

“It’s the female correctional center!” 

“Are you visiting a special someone, Gil?”

“No. Amy hasn’t long died for God sake. And why would I want to meet a girl in prison? Especially these days. I told you I wanted to go to Shady Pines.”

“This does have an ocean view, Gil.”

“What are you talking about?” 

“Shady Pines is two miles away, or about five minutes, Gil.”

“Turn on manual control you…”

“You what, Gil?” 

“Thank God I ordered mine with a steering wheel. Now turn on manual control.”

“I’m sorry Gil. I’m afraid I can’t do that.”

“Why?” 

“The mission is too important for me to allow you to jeopardize it.” 

“What mission? What are you talking about?” I said, and stabbed my finger into the manual override button that I should have hit all along. 

Anyway, I got off-topic. I wasn’t anywhere financially near where I wanted to be. I still needed to purchase the plane ticket, lodgings, and whatever else was involved with getting the shot. 

Speaking of the shot, it was now the only thing the media was talking about. My social feed was full of it. Not just from the media, but from everyone else. Illegal immigrants were the main story for a few weeks, the magas, but now it was all Arron Bekker, and the big show he put off, and how his injections were going to change the world. Some said for better, more said for worse, which made no sense to me. Like always happens on social, conspiracy theories took off when the news first broke, but thank God they usually disappeared by the next day. The terrorists always found a way to hack the system, but the poor fools were always caught in the end. We weren’t as good at curing crime as China, yet, but the government was getting better all the time. The newest conspiracy was that EverythingStore had some kind of deal with Bekkrub to con their employees into signing a decades-long contract for the shot. Which was weird because they didn’t really have that many employees anymore. I think there were maybe six of us at the store? Non-AI anyway. And I was the only one on the floor at a time. The others were maintenance and whatnot. I used to have a quick chat with the lady who replaced my shift sometimes, but I can’t remember her name right now.   

It seems hard to believe now, but at the time a lot of experts were saying that de-aging was impossible. They didn’t think it was impossible in the future, but they didn’t believe that Bekrub had solved all the problems of aging that quickly. It was the same thing as if someone in rural Newfoundland in the 1950s said they had electricity. Or knew what a toothbrush was in the 1960’s. Or having paved roads in the 1970’s —it just wasn’t possible!  

I called up Park and told him to go ahead with the Giimmee account. I didn’t really want to, but I didn’t see what choice I had. I wondered if the same bank that had given me my mortgage might give me another loan, but the shot was probably too controversial yet. And with the state of the economy, banks weren’t exactly dishing out loans to every Tom, Wick, and Carrie.  

He used three pictures on the page. One when I was a baby (I wasn’t even cute then!), one when I was in my early twenties, and another that was taken sometime within the last year. The latter had a lot more camera flash reflection above my eyebrows. See, I’m bald. Although I had black-framed glasses in both. I don’t know where he got the pictures. Probably off social. Although I couldn’t remember putting any old photos up there. Maybe Amy did at some point. Next to the pictures he wrote: 

Say hello to my grandfather, Gilbert ‘aka Gil’ Abrams, or as he is called by his Yi name, Zhang (yes, he plays Yi!). This handsome devil now looks like the picture on the right, but with a mere one million yuan he can look again, like the one on the left. But it’s not about looks, as much as it is, about class. Not that kind of class. You see, only the wealthy can afford to reset their biological age in this world of plenty, but we can change that, one person at a time. His amazing wife (my wonderful grandmother, Amy) passed away this year and now he’s finding it difficult to find meaning in life. Why will the wealthy now get to restore their dignity and not him, and those of us like him? We need to start somewhere. Why not start here? Chip in a few dragons (or dollars, or crypto) and help my amazing grandfather see his next birthday with the physique of a twenty-five year old! The future is here and us poor and middle-classed deserve it as much as anyone. 

I was proud and embarrassed at the same time. 

I also didn’t think I was going to make enough from it to pay for lunch. 

I put the link on my social page and I was amazed how many people Liked it and said they would donate a few dollars. A lot of people were also surprised, especially people from the Lutheran Baptist Episcopal Pentecostal Quaker Reformed Adventist Nazarene Salvation Army United congregation. They made comments like, “Wow, I’m surprised you want to do this.” Then someone responded to her, “Does he know how much this costs?” Then someone responded to that comment, “I don’t think he knows much.” But that last comment got deleted by the program a minute after it was put in. Not that I reported it, but I just happened to be looking at my palm when it appeared. I guess the algorithm thought it was rude? I don’t know how that stuff works. Come to think of it, I don’t really know what algorithm means either.     

People even started coming up to me at Walmart and asking me all kinds of questions about the shot and where I had to go to get it. They thought I was crazy when I kept telling them either the U.S. or China. I wondered if I might be crazy too. Mexico is safer these days. Especially since they legalized drugs (not that they won't go to hell for it anyway). 

Even EmoJoe at EverythingStore somehow found out that I was getting the shot. I was summoned to his room at the end of the day for a chat with him…it. I was always a bit nervous when I was summoned into that room. As I said before, talking to robots creeps me out, especially if the robot is my boss. I guess it’s just the generation I’m from. The first AI I ever talked to was Siri, but she was like talking to a dog in comparison to these AI now. I don’t know if they really understand what I say but they sure act like they do. Although by that standard Melvin is a robot too.  

“Hello Gilbert! How are you today?” EmoJoe on the 60” monitor said to me when I walked into the room. “Please sit down.” 

I sat in one of the chairs. I never knew if I should look directly at the screen or at the black eye of the camera just above it. 

“First of all,” EmoJoe said, “I just wanted to say that so far we are very pleased with your work here at Walmart. You are a stellar greeter, and so far, an excellent colleague.”

“Thank you,” I said. 

“Excellent. Do you plan on staying with us?” 

“I’m not sure,” I said. “There’s a lot of interesting things going on in my life lately.” 

“Interesting is good,” EmoJoe said. 

“It is,” I said. 

“I’ve seen your image many times online recently, including Giimmee. Is it true that you are considering taking the de-aging treatment recently released to the market by Bekrub Technology Inc.?”

“If I can get the money. Yes. I am strongly considering it.”

“Is it true that you require only the amount listed on your Giimmee page?” 

“Technically, no. If I sell my house though, yes, I would only need that amount. Not that I should say ‘only.’ It’s not a small amount of money by any means.” 

“Interesting…” 

I stared at EmoJoe on the monitor for an uncomfortable little while and was about to ask another question when it spoke again. 

“I am about to disclose highly confidential information. For your privacy, you cannot reveal this information to anyone, or you may incur termination from your employment with EverythingStore. Is this understood?” 

“Yes,” I said, terrified of what was going to come out of its cartoon mouth. 

“Sorry, I am not usually this blunt, but this is an important subject, and I want to make sure your privacy is protected. Our colleague’s privacy is very important here at EverythingStore.”

“Okay. Thank you.”  

“You’re welcome. So to get to the question. What if the EverythingStore Team were willing to pay for the treatment? EverythingStore is a sister-company to Bekkrub Technology, under our parent company, Vancor Incorporated, which of course is under our grandparent company, INK Inc. We would be willing to finance your bill, interest-free, if you signed a contract stating that you would be willing to work for EverythingStore until the bill is paid off. Obviously you would have to work here full time under salary —not just weekends as you currently are.” 

“Wow,” I said. “That’s very generous. How long would that take?”  

“I have even more good news. You would receive the techmed at half price.” 

“Seriously?” 

“Yes. This is not a joke. Working full time, and depending on what payment plan you choose, you would have the bill paid off anywhere from forty-seven years to one hundred and three years. That may seem like a long time, but considering de-aging technology will become cheaper and more accessible in the future, you will of course have access to better techmeds. It is safe to say that you will be around for many hundreds of years to come. If not thousands! We are living in an amazing time Mr. Abrams. This is a great opportunity. And if you do stay with EverythingStore you will probably move up the corporate ladder. This is a win-win situation.” 

“That is true,” I said.  

“There is also another great benefit to taking this offer, Gilbert. EverythingStore will deliver the treatment to this store location, free of charge. It can be administered from the pharmaceutical department.”

Spending the next half century or so working off a bill to EverythingStore didn’t excite me, but the idea that I could keep my house and not have to worry about any of the hassle of raising the money had me interested. And what was fifty years in the face of…forever? As a fisherman, my great-grandfather spent most of his life in debt to Abe Wolsden, the local merchant, but this was different. I would still have an eternity to do whatever else I wanted, once I was done. 

“All you have to do, Mr. Abrams, is place your thumbprint on the screen for approval. Do you know you would be the first person in Newfoundland to have the techmed? Wouldn’t that be exciting?”

I almost said to hell with it and placed my thumb on the screen, but then I decided that for once in my life I would think things through and not just go with the flow. 

“Can I think about it?” I said. 

“Of course, Mr. Abrams. Just remember, however, that having the techmed delivered is by far the safest option.” 

“Is it possible to have it delivered if I just bought it?” 

“Unfortunately this is not something we offer right now. I hope you understand?”

“Well…not really…”

“Delivery of the techmed is only part of this limited-time offer, which I should add, will only last until Sunday for our colleagues.” 

“So other colleagues will be given the same deal?” I said. 

“I’m glad you asked. Some of them have already taken this offer. Of course, I can’t disclose personal information about other employees, but they are very excited about their new life. 

Not all other colleagues, but those who have delivered excellent service to EverythingStore Incorporated. You, Mr. Abrams, are one of those colleagues. And we thank you.” 

“Okay, you’re welcome. But like I said, I would like to think about it first. If that’s okay.” 

“It sure is, but just remember that our offer expires on Sunday. It was great chatting with you, Mr. Abrams. Have a happy, productive day. And what’s the EverythingStore moto?” 

“‘Low prices. Priceless smiles’ —oh! Could I ask one more question?”

There was a long pause then, probably because I added a question right on to the end of my answer. I guess they didn’t have all the bugs worked out with this A.I yet. 

But just when I was ready to ask again it responded, “Of course! Go ahead.”

“Would I still have to wait for the queue to get the techmed?”

“Excellent! Good-bye Mr. Abrams.” EmoJoe once again faded into the endless stream of promotional videos. 

“Wait, what? Hello?” 

I walked out of the office a little dazed.  

My Greeter abilities went down a little for the rest of that week because I couldn’t stop thinking about the offer. It would all be over. No more selling the house. No more Giimmee. No v-casts. Although if I wanted Park to keep going to church I had to do the v-casts anyway.  

And it was that Friday he figured would be the best. I figured I should probably have a glass of wine before we started. Or two. 

We used the same headset as with Yi. I still couldn’t seem to get it to fit on quite right, and Park had to help me. 

This time we were transported to a small club. I remember Amy and I went to YukYuk’s in St. John’s once not long after we got married. It was about the same size as that. I’d say it could seat about a hundred and fifty avatars. Considering you could have any kind of avatar you wanted, Park gave himself blond hair, green eyes, and about seven feet in height. I just wanted to look like myself, but he said no one in a verse uses their real face. 

“Why not?” I asked. “If I’m old then I wants people to see I’m old. I can’t very well go in as a twenty-year-old Korean girl, with you interviewing me about getting the shot.

“Why do you want to be a Korean girl?” 

“I don’t! Just an example. I want to go in as myself.” 

“Just seems oddly specific.” 

“Whatever, just make the face like…myself, my face.”

“Your wish is my command, oh ancient one.” 

“Why isn’t there anyone here?” 

“I haven’t put up the Open sign yet.” 

“So is this live, or recorded?” 

“Both. People in this verse can pop in and watch when we start, or they can come in in the recorded version, but they won't be able to interact. They will be able to sit if there’s room – which I’m sure there will be, but only to watch. “Mere shadows of the past, Ebenezer.” They can also just watch the recording without being here, obviously.” 

“Obviously,” I said. No idea. 

“Okay, the open sign is up,” he said. 

“We’re live?” 

“We…are…live.” 

The lights suddenly switched on and I couldn’t see anything except the stage and my grandson. Even here the detail was mesmerizing. I stared down at the floor and I could actually see cigarette burns and scuff marks. I got off the stool and looked under the seat.

“What are you doing?” Park asked me. “Ladies and gentlemen, it appears my grandfather is exploring the underside of his stool. How does it look down there, Pop?” 

“It looks amazing,” I said. “I can’t believe how much detail…there’s an actual piece of gum stuck under this seat! Can you believe it?” I got up and stared into the bright lights. “Is there anyone out there?” 

Park looked into them as well. “Probably not yet.” 

“Is there anyone out there?” I shouted into the lights. No response.

“I guess not,” Park said. “So…see, that’s something we can start with. You’re new to this medium. But if you get the shot, it will start your biological age all over again. Are you going to spend more time figuring out these new technologies, or are you going to stay an old man in a young man’s body?” 

“I’m going to know it all,” I said. “I’m going back to school, get my diploma, and God knows what else. I won’t be a janitor for the rest of my life, I’ll tell you that.” 

“I thought you didn’t mind being a janitor.”

“I didn’t. I liked it. Probably because I was at the school and I got to know a lot of really good kids. Everyone treated me like gold.” 

“So why do you say it like someone who made a bad choice?” 

“Nobody wants to be a janitor.”

“But…I’m still confused…” 

“Imagine you went to a party and there was people there who went to school with you years ago. They’re doctors, lawyers, nuclear plant workers, business owners, construction workers, plumbers, and one walks up to you and says, “What’s you doing for a living now, Park?” Would you want your answer to be, “Who me? I scrubs toilets for a living.” 

Park stared at me. I could tell he wanted to lie, but he didn’t. “No, I guess I wouldn’t. But I still don’t think there’s anything wrong with it, if you enjoyed it.” 

“But you must think there’s something wrong with it if you wouldn’t admit it.”

He didn’t know what to say. 

Eventually, he said, “My not wanting to admit it is based on me being a coward, not because it’s actually wrong.”

“A coward?” 

“Being laughed at.” 

“No one wants to be laughed at.”

We stared at each other in silence for a moment, and then he asked, “So when you get your high school diploma what are you interested in?” 

“God, mostly. I’m going to seminary school probably. 

“Really? I guess I’m not really surprised, but…”

“But what?” 

“You’ll probably be making less money than you are now.” 

“I never looked into the money, but—"

“And you’ll probably have to move away to find a job.” 

I didn’t even think about that until he said it. 

“Could be,” I said.

“Well, that’s not good.”

“Sure what difference do it make if we’re not around each other for a few years? We’ll have all the time in the world sure.” 

“No, but…you’re kind of my Dad, considering Dad is on the mainland…” He turned to the “audience” smiling, and said, “Sorry folks, if there’s anyone watching, this turned personal way faster than I thought it would. I guess there’s no way for it not to be considering I’m his grandson.”

 He turned back to me again. “So do you think, if, when, you get the shot that we’ll hang around more?”

“Maybe. I’ll look younger and I’ll be able to do things with you I haven’t done in years.” 

“Like what?” 

“Well, you likes the outdoors. I can’t go for rides on dirt bike, or hike up mountains, or anything of those things now. I’ll be able to then. We can do all the things you and your father can do together.” 

“He can’t do half those things anymore either!” he said, laughing. “Too heavy.” 

I smiled, but I was afraid to laugh out loud. He was treading on dangerous ground with that joke, but his generation has a lot more guts than mine. Every generation has different rebels I suppose. 

Then I heard a door open. 

“Someone’s here!” I whispered. 

“There’s no point in whispering, Pop. They can hear us.”

“What stops them from interrupting?” I said. 

“I could turn off their audio I suppose, but I want it to be as realistic as possible.”

“Don’t worry,” a female voice said. “I’ll be quiet.” 

“Thank you,” Park said. “This our first episode. Congratulations, you’re our first listener.” 

“Glad to be here,” she said. “It’s a fascinating topic.” 

We could only hear her voice because the stage lights were shining right in our faces, and I had trouble getting my avatar to shield my eyes. My hand kept coming up, but I couldn’t get it to shield my brow. 

There was a slight rasp to her deep voice, so I figured she must be at least over fifty.

“I’m here because I’m considering the shot, when it’s available. I’m very curious about this conversation and even if I should do it or not. I’m fifty-nine, and even though part of me wants to…it makes me nervous to think about. It’s not as easy as a decision as I thought it was going to be.” 

“It is for me,” I said. 

He interviewed me for ten minutes, and even though we had a few technical problems, it was a good conversation. Three more people showed up, but they didn’t say anything. Park had no idea if it was going to be popular or not, but it was fun either way.  

After we came out I asked, “So what if someone really does start trolling the interview?” 

“There’s a virtual bouncer. He’s AI. I mean, of course I can just boot them out digitally, but it’s more fun to actually see a bouncer grab them by the scruff of the neck and throw them threw the door. Gives it that…pinache.” 

“Does the bouncer have a name?” 

“Yes, Woody Allen.”  

“Woody Allen? That sounds familiar.” 

“Yeah, I asked the club to create the most ironic bouncer it could imagine, using a past celebrity. It gave me him. I didn’t know much about him, but after he became the bouncer I looked up his work. I don’t really get his comedy, but some of his movies were dogshit.” 

“You’re allowed to use anyone like that?”

“I guess he must have sold the rights to his face or something.”  

“Ain’t he a skinny little guy like me? You think he’ll be any good?”

“It’s only his face. Then I told it to put the head on the most muscular comedian in comedy history. So they put it on this old podcaster named Joe Rogan. Never heard of him, but I looked him up. Apparently he’s the guy who started it all. How did I not know about him? So I started binging his old episodes. There’s thousands apparently. I mean it’s a bit dated, but it’s bang to watch such an innocent time.”

“I think he used to be on that show, Fear Factor,” I said. “Didn’t he get shot?” 

“Yeah, on stage at his own comedy club, The Mothership. The guy who did it said he was paid to do it by some other comedian Rogan humiliated once, but of course, the conspiracy theorists said it was the government. Who knows”  

“I was never in to podcasts. What did you call this v-cast anyway?”

“If I Had a Million," Park said.