Looking for Ray
Flash Fiction by Michael J Phillips
She found the note folded in his jacket pocket. It was sharply creased and folded with care. All it contained was an address written in capital letters. He had been gone some time now, but she hadn’t given up on finding him.
Mara immediately went to the address. She knew the street name, although she had never been to that particular location. She hurried through the dark streets, chasing at her heels. It was a struggle, but then she struggled a lot these days.
The address was a 24-hour laundromat. Mara stared at the washing machines through the steamy windows as they spun furiously. She entered and took a seat. Odours of detergent and bleach coagulated in the air. The washers snarled and rattled like bickering old men, each louder than the last. A fish tank sat on a badly hung shelf. It was devoid of any life; the filter pointlessly pumped bubbles around it. Much like him, the fish were nowhere to be found. Jazz music filled the background, stitching at the silence in vain. Looking down, Mara found his hat on her lap. Had she subconsciously brought it with her? Or was it already here? The worn feather stuck out of the brim. It laughed at her, taunting her. A woman casually mopped up what looked like a pool of blood from the floor at the rear of the shop. Rinsing the mop into an old blue bucket, she hummed the tune of an ancient TV soap opera. There was still no sign of him though.
She’d searched other places, of course, but the headaches hindered her progress. Rumour has it that the chip caused that. Everyone who had version 1.0 of the chip fitted suffered the same side effects. Losing him had caused the headaches to grow. The search had become her oxygen now, and impossible to abandon. She had tried the 404 club the day before. He liked to socialise there. He felt safe in the knowledge that they couldn’t find him. However much control they might have over everyone, he had a home at the 404.
The woman continued mopping up the blood. She hadn’t acknowledged the presence of the woman with the hat in her lap. Mara looked back at the fish tank and then down at his hat again.
‘Have you seen him?’ she asked.
The woman turned her back on Mara. She reached for the cigarette packet on the worn counter. The sound of a lighter struck, followed by a small plume of smoke.
‘Excuse me, I asked if you have seen him?’
The woman flashed her tombstone teeth at Mara as she grimaced back,
‘Who exactly are you looking for, lovely?’
Mara’s pulse raced, hope cracked a strand of light in her head,
‘Ray, my Husband, have you seen him?’
She laughed back at Mara. The washing machines seemed to laugh in unison. Perspiration grew on her brow. She fixed her gaze on the bubbles in the fish tank. It was still empty, although Mara thought she could see a crack appearing in the corner of it. A flashback struck her; She laughed with Ray as they held each other tight, she couldn’t remember where they were, but she had him in her arms. Memory bleed was one of the glitches of version 1.0 of the chip. She had heard rumours of developers being executed by the Commission because of the defect. Perhaps they had taken Ray also? Version 2.0 was on its way soon; that was for sure. She could expect an upgrade; everyone could.
The woman had now disappeared along with the mop, bucket, and pool of blood. The dusty bell above the door rang out as a man gracefully entered the shop. One of the machines stopped its cycle as he stood in front of it. The door popped open of its own accord. The man began to transfer the clothes into a black bag. The bag matched his black coat and hat. He wore black shoes with white spats.
‘Have you seen Ray?’ Mara asked.
Her desperation spiralled out of control. The man turned his gaze to her, his granite pallor unassuming and confident,
‘Oh, you’ll find him soon enough, I’m sure.’
He doffed his hat as he left,
‘Toodle-oo for now.’
The other machines began to drag her gaze back in. If she stared long enough at the spinning clothes, she could make out Ray’s face. He smiled back at her with tears.
The woman had returned with a fresh mop and bucket. She stared Mara down, eyes hollow, and held out her hand,
‘We’re ready for you now, lovely.’
All the machines stopped at once. The music had jammed on the same couple of notes. A loud humming sound grew from the rear of the shop. The bubbles in the fish tank continued to dance with each other.