Have you had to deal with a new office? A boss who doesn’t explain the job to you, or train you to do it? Some jobs are dull and repetitive, too. Bet you never expected that new job to be here…
“First day at the factory?” A scruffy man asked, turning toward me as he inhaled the steam from his coffee mug.
“How could you tell?” I smiled, hoping to make a friend.
“You look nervous. Don’t be. Everyone learns the routine quickly. Pretty soon it will feel as if you’ve always worked here,” he grinned. “I’m Theo.”
“Olivia. So… what exactly do-” I started.
“Alright everyone,” a rough voice barked, and my coworkers flocked to the center of the room.
“That’s Mr. Flores, department chief, and our boss,” Theo said as we walked toward the huddle of workers, pointing to the source of the voice. Mr. Flores looked disheveled, as if he had worked in this factory too long and too much to take care of himself. He carried a clipboard and pen and tapped his foot as he waited for his employees.
“Good morning, Department of Sorting,” Mr. Flores continued once everyone had gathered around. “I’m told we have a new employee in our midst, so welcome…” he looked at his clipboard before continuing, “…Olivia. Anyway, it’s looking to be a busy one today so I’ll keep it brief. The major theme today is nostalgia and regret, so keep that in mind for resurfacing. I have just a couple reminders this morning. As usual, you are not permitted to take a break until your request is approved. I’ve noticed people have had trouble with that the past few days. Also, remember which tubes are which – red is for expulsion, blue is for resurfacing, and so on. You’re welcome to label them if it helps you keep them straight. We don’t need any more mix-ups. Lastly, there are doughnuts in the break room today. As an incentive, if everyone finishes their first shelf by 11:00, I’ll call a team break and we can all go have some. Okay, you’re dismissed.”
Some chatter arose as employees split off. Mr. Flores approached me and Theo. “Theo, can I trust you to show Olivia around?” He asked, pointing his chin toward me.
“Already on it, sir,” Theo said. Mr. Flores nodded and then left bluntly without a word to me. “Don’t take it personally that he didn’t greet you; that’s just his way.”
“It’s okay. He reminds me of my old boss… uh…” I blanked out. “Sorry, I can’t seem to remember my old boss’s name.”
Theo grinned. “I hate it when that happens. Like torture trying to remember something on the tip of your tongue.”
“Exactly.”
Suddenly, massive shelves robotically wheeled into the room. Each shelf parked itself in a designated slot between desks. The shelves had four levels and a seemingly endless number of files shoved into each level. The desks were completely empty – no computers, pens, or personal pictures – and tubes of all different colors reached down from the ceiling. There was one tube in every color of the rainbow that hung above each desk. I watched as employees at their desks pulled files from the shelves – some had an orderly system, moving top to bottom or left to right, while others pulled at random. The employees would open the files, read them, and then roll them up tightly, like a scroll, and shove them into one of the dangling tubes. The tubes, which I assumed had some sort of suction, inhaled the files.
“Here,” Theo said, pulling me out of my mesmerized stare. “You can come to my desk for now until Flores gives you one. I’ll show you how to sort the files.”
“So that’s our whole job?” I asked as I followed him past rows of cookie-cutter employees to his workstation. “Reading files and shoving them up certain tubes?”
“Pretty much. A lot of people here really love it. Some feel like reading the files helps them connect with their emotions. Others just love the organization. Personally, I’m not a big fan of the work, but I like when they bring in doughnuts.” Theo reached his desk and let me sit in his chair while he kneeled beside me. He pulled a file from one of the middle levels of the adjacent shelf and placed it onto the plain, grey desk surface. He then pointed up at the color-coded tubes.
“Red is for the Department of Expulsion. We send files there if they are meant to be, well, expelled.”
“What’s in the files?” I tried to open the one he had pulled from the shelf, but he stopped me.
“I’ll tell you more about that in a moment. First, the meanings of the colors. The blue tube leads to the Department of Resurfacing, meant for files that will be resurfaced.”
“Sounds pretty intuitive.”
“But that’s for files that are intended to be resurfaced right now, or soon. If files are meant to be resurfaced at some point, but not necessarily in the near future, they get sent up the green tube, to the Department of Storage. Orange is for the Department of Alteration, for files that need changing. Files there are exaggerated or combined with other files to enhance their effect, and then sent back here for further sorting. The purple tube is for files meant for the Department of Foundation; those are usually pretty important. Files intended to be permanently erased go up the black tube, to the Department of Deletion. And lastly, files going up the yellow tube go to the Department of Dreaming.”
“Wait, what are we sorting? How do I know where to sort the files?”
“Why don’t you read this one,” Theo handed me the file he had pulled out, “and tell me where you think it should go.”
I opened the manila folder to see a single piece of paper with two sentences on it:
I look down at my notes and read that the Protestant Reformation began in 1517. I cannot forget this for the test tomorrow.
“What is this?” I looked back up at Theo.
“A memory,” he shrugged.
“What? What kind of factory is this?”
“A brain factory. Everyone’s brain has one. It’s how the brain functions and sorts its memories. We sort all the new memories. That specific file is a memory from late last night.”
“So… we’re in someone’s brain?”
“Of course.”
I stood dumbfounded, processing the information. Theo continued, “So, where should that file go?”
“This is someone’s memory, and we, in someone’s brain, decide where the memory goes?”
“Yes.”
“Well, it’s a memory of important information for a test that the person wants to remember. So it should go up the blue tube, to the Department of Resurfacing.”
“Oh, I guess I forgot to explain the most important part of our job,” Theo said in a sing-song voice. He leaned in close, as if to tell me a secret, but something about him told me it was a secret that everybody knew. “The person whose brain we’re inside – we’re here to torture them. Memories they want to remember, we expel. Memories they wish they could forget, we send to Resurfacing or Storage. Feared memories are sent to Dreaming to cause nightmares. Regretful memories are sent to Alteration for exaggeration.”
“Why would we do that? As part of their brain, isn’t it our duty to help them?”
“You’ve got it backwards. Brains are torture machines that live inside us. Why do you think you can’t remember how you got here?”
I thought for a moment. How did I get here?
Theo smirked and continued, “That’s your brain factory. The memory of you coming to this factory was sent to your brain factory’s Department of Expulsion, which means you know you have the memory, but it’s just out of reach. That’s the difference between expulsion and deletion. Deletion destroys the memory completely, whereas expulsion just puts the memory in an inaccessible place, while holding onto the traces of it. It keeps helpful memories just out of reach.”
“I don’t understand why a brain would do that to its person.”
“A brain is a virus; it slowly drains the life out of its host. Your brain knows everything about you – all your darkest thoughts, your worst secrets, your most regretted moments. How could it possibly have a positive outlook on you? Your brain can weaponize parts of you that no one else knows about.”
“Well, I’m not going to participate in using this person’s brain to torture them.”
“You don’t have a choice, Olivia. Your brain has already expelled the memory of how to leave this factory. Soon, it might have expelled the memory of this conversation. Your brain doesn’t want you to be happy, and it certainly doesn’t want you to be free.”
With that, Theo grabbed the file, rolled it up, and shoved it up the red tube, straight to the Department of Expulsion. I stared at him blankly, confused.
“Onto the next file,” he said triumphantly.
“I think I can do this one on my own,” I said. “We should try to finish this shelf soon. I heard there’s doughnuts in the break room!”
END
