Ron Singer

Who’s Counting?

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Like many things in his life, Mr. F—-’s stretching exercises were highly routinized. Every other day, he would do thirty “reps”: 30 leg lifts, 30 crunches, 30 dead bugs, 30 etc.’s. If an exercise had a second component -lateral crunches, dead bugs with arms stretched back over the head (instead of toward the feet)- Mr.  F—- would do 10 of those. On alternate days, he would halve the numbers: 15 for each stretch, and 5 if there were a second component. That was the routine.

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Mr. F—— would introduce himself by his initial, because his full surname was “Finger,” and he was tired of people thinking it was “Singer.” Of course, “F” could be misheard as “S,” but this mistake seemed to occur less often than the “Singer” for “Finger” mistake had (occurred).

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Mr. F—-’s other routines were as carefully regulated as his stretching. Since it would be tiresome to go through them all, let’s just say he brushed his teeth [with the WaterPik (tm)] a certain number of strokes after breakfast, a larger number after lunch, and the largest number before bed. Ditto, for hair-brushing, deep-breathing (to fall asleep), and other daily activities, such as urinating and defecating. (But let’s not go there.)

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Possibly because he counted so much, Mr. F—- was a very good guesser. For instance, as he stepped onto the scale each morning (before breakfast, but after coffee), he would guess his weight, usually coming within a half pound of what the scale would then confirm. An exciting moment!

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I would like to say that, one day, Mr. F—-‘s life changed, but to say so would not be strictly accurate. What, in fact, happened was that, one day, he died (cardiac infarction). That is, he took his last, counted breaths on Earth. At the time, he was fast-walking, taking 30 breaths per minute. Since he had become, in recent years, a luddite, he walked without a gadget to insure that his breathing was correctly tabulated. But he assumed his count was reasonably accurate. 

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Mr. F— ’s final living thought was a commonplace: “What will happen to me next?” In his case, a good question!

Was there a hell or heaven for counters? Actually, as you might guess, they are consigned to a customized purgatory. Logically connected to the way they spent their days, the purgatory for counters, as Mr. F—— learned upon dying, was that now his every single thought, motion, and emotion must be counted. 

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Also unlike when he had been alive, his counting would now be monitored. “By whom, or what?” you ask. Let’s call him/her/it the “Supreme Monitor.” If the  title reminds you of St. Peter, think again! The difference is that the purgatory for counters was in no way influenced by the behavior of its denizens, either when alive, or thereafter. Besides, how could compulsive counting be considered “good” or “evil”?

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What happened if you counted wrong in purgatory? Simple. You got a do-over, until you got it right. You might think Mr. F—— would like this new dispensation. Think again: he hated it! Looking back on life, he realized how much he missed all the things he had not counted: the sips of water, bites of broccoli, etc. etc. (Their number was legion.)

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At some point, Mr. F—— addressed the Supreme Monitor (or “S.M.,” as he preferred to be called) with an inevitable (but good) question: “Is there any way out of here?” 

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The S.M. chuckled. He had been waiting for this question, which every denizen of purgatory sooner or later asked.

(Mr. F—’s time in p. before asking was in the 52nd percentile.) He got the standard answer. “Well, yes. You can return to life, but without foreknowledge of your new life span. In other words, your return would be for an indeterminate period.” 

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“So what else is new?” cried Mr. F—.

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The S.M. chuckled. “That’s what they all say. What’s new is that, at any moment, you could die again, and, then, you would …”

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In unison with the S.M., Mr. F— completed the sentence: “… come back here.” With a sigh, he added, “No, thanks! I’ll just stay.”

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As Mr. F—- began to walk away, the S.M. cleared his throat. “Wait!” he commanded. “How many seconds did our exchange just now take?” 

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Mr. F—- hadn’t the foggiest. He realized this meant they would have to repeat the inconsequential exchange. “Is there any way out of here?” he asked (again). 

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The S.M. chuckled (again).

 

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Ron Singer’s most recently published book is Norman’s Cousin & Other Stories (Unsolicited Press, Feb. 2023). He is  shopping for a publisher for Ngongo Chronicle, a novel about political insurrection set in an imagined African nation. Currently, he is working on Documents from Dine’ta’ah (Navajoland). Geistmann-4: John Robinson Investigates is currently running, in serial form, at Piker Press. That book combines two genres: political thriller and travelogue. For more info, please visit www.ronsinger.net.

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