The Big Joke

by Robert Hurvitz

copyright (c) 1990

I woke up in a strange bed, in a strange house, in a stranger's body. All I knew was that I was lying naked on a firm mattress with light blue sheets. The walls of the bedroom were painted white, and the rug was a pleasant beige. Various pieces of furniture lay in strategic locations. There was no sound in the room; I couldn't even hear my own breathing.

I pushed the sheets back, looked at myself, and frowned. This body needs a tan and a lot of exercise, I thought. Good thing it doesn't look familiar. But then, what would look familiar? After a moment, I realized that I didn't know.

A bead of sweat trickled down the side of my forehead, and I cried out when it managed to find its way into my ear, causing my body to shiver and my hand to dart up and hastily try to rub the droplet out. I hate when that happens, I thought. I must make it a point not to sweat. Reaching up, I wiped my brow with the back of my hand.

After taking a deep breath, I swung my legs out of bed and sat up, then surveyed the room again. There were some posters on the walls: Escher drawings, Dali prints, and a large photo of a sleek, black computer. I stared intently at each one, but nothing would come to mind about what they meant to me or even how they came to be on the walls. What does all of this mean? I thought. I didn't know.

On the nightstand was a white push button telephone. Maybe I can call someone, I thought, someone who can help me. But...who? I nervously ran a hand through my hair. I didn't know, and I wanted to scream.

On impulse, I reached out and snatched up the receiver, dialing 911 with my other hand.

It rang twice before someone answered.

"911," greeted someone. I couldn't tell if the person was a man or a woman.

"Hello," I said quickly. "I..." I didn't know what to say.

"Is something wrong?" the voice asked seriously.

"I..."

"Are you all right?"

"I...I don't know. I think I'm all right." My mind did somersaults. "I just woke up---"

"And you don't know...?" the voice finished for me.

"Yes. Yes, that's it exactly."

"So you called 911, first thing?"

"Yes. I didn't know what else to do."

Sudden peals of laughter burst forth from the receiver, and I instinctively jerked it away from my ear.

"You don't know, and so you called 911!" exclaimed the owner of the voice. Another laughing fit followed.

I sat there on the edge of the bed, naked and frozen in horror. The laughter from the phone echoed menacingly about the bedroom, assaulting my ears from all directions. I had a death grip on the receiver, and I thought I could hear the plastic begin to crack. "I don't understand why this is so funny!" I yelled out.

The someone only laughed louder.

And then, with a click, there was abrupt silence.

I remained where I was, stunned, until the dial tone sounded, snapping me out of my fear-induced trance. I glanced around apprehensively, saw that I was still holding the receiver, and gingerly placed it back on the cradle. The laughter still reverberated within the walls of my mind.

Maybe, I thought, maybe this is all a nightmare. Maybe I'll wake up, and everything will be normal again. I paused. Again? I thought. `What if this IS normal? What if I'm just out of my damned mind?!'

I stared once more at the walls. Escher, Dali, and computer posters? Surely the mark of a lunatic, I concluded. Yes, the three-sided house with the people walking in different reference frames: that must represent my topsy-turvy world. The hands drawing themselves...Hmm, I'll have to think about that one. "The Persistence of Memory": a dash of irony, obviously. "Burning Giraffes and Telephones": a firm reminder of my insanity, no doubt. And the computer poster? Perhaps that has something to do with a job I had before I went nutso.

I gazed at the phone and shuddered. But, I thought, that telephone conversation was definitely real. That person obviously knew something. But why didn't he/she/it help me? Maybe, I thought, maybe this is all a conspiracy, a huge plot to make me think I'm crazy!

I frowned. No, I thought, that IDEA is just plain crazy.

So what do I do?

I stretched out on the bed, rubbing my eyes and mulling over everything I knew.

Well, I concluded, the first thing I can do is get dressed. Then I should get something to eat. And then...? Well, I'll burn that bridge when I get to it.

Determined, I stood up, rooted through the dresser and closet, and picked out some clothes. Then I searched for the bathroom, found it. Finally, I tracked down the kitchen and made myself a hearty breakfast of French toast, scrambled eggs, and a big cup of orange juice.

It hit me while I was swallowing a mouthful of French toast. All of the clothes in the closet, I realized, were of styles I liked, and the garments I picked out had fit me perfectly! Also, the kitchen is chock full of my favorite foods! Therefore, I concluded, this body must live in this house, and so must I. Hence, this body must indeed be mine. Q.E.D. Now I'm getting somewhere. But, I asked myself, to where am I getting? I forked up some eggs and chewed them thoughtfully. I didn't know.

My stomach finally full, I drained the last of the juice from my glass and thought, Now I'm ready. I leaned back in my chair and considered my options. I didn't have many. I could call 911 again, but that would probably result in further ridicule. I could call the operator, but how would that help me? I could sit around this house all day and hope I get better, but that would be boring. I could go outside, take a walk...Hmm, that idea seems pretty inviting, actually. The fresh air would do me good, and I might even run into someone who knows me. Yes, I think I'll go for a nice, long walk.

I dropped the dirty dishes in the sink, headed for the front door, opened it, and stepped outside. It was a fine day for a walk: the sun was out, no clouds were to be seen, and birds were chirping merrily. Before I closed the door behind me, I made sure the keys I had found on the nightstand fit the locks. Then, my confidence growing, I firmly shut the door and locked it.

I walked to the sidewalk and, on a whim, turned right and headed down the street. The other houses were not especially large, but they looked pleasant enough and had well-tended front lawns.

No one else was outside, but that was perfectly understandable; my digital watch claimed that it was Thursday, 10:30 a.m. So everyone should be at work or at school, I rationalized.

I kept walking, breathing deep and appreciating the large oak trees that lined the street. Four blocks later I came to a park. I eagerly scanned the grassy area and saw several people. Some were sitting on benches, others were lying on the grass; some were reading books, others were merely soaking up the sun. I briskly walked towards the nearest of them, a blond young man wearing shorts and a t-shirt.

As I neared, he glanced up from his book, tilted his head, and smiled.

I stopped in my tracks. Why is he smiling at me? I thought furiously. Does he know me? What should I do? Should I play along? Yes, that would probably be best.

I smiled back.

He nodded approvingly and went back to his book.

Aha! Victory! I took a few more steps in his direction. "Nice day, isn't it?" I said conversationally. I could now see that he was reading a physics textbook. He's probably a college student, I surmised.

He looked back at me. "Yes," he replied. He lifted up his textbook and added, "I can never study indoors on a day like this. It seems like such a waste, you know?"

"Ah, yes. Definitely." I then cleared my throat, glanced at the sky, and asked as nonchalantly as possible, "Do you know me, by any chance?"

He pursed his lips and then said, "Sorry, no." He shrugged and returned to his textbook. Just before I was about to walk away and approach someone else, his eyes shot open and he jerked his head back up. "No way!" he called out jubilantly.

At the sound of his outburst, the other people in the park turned their attention towards us, and I cautiously stepped back.

"You don't know, do you?" the college student asked incredulously.

"Uh, well..." I said lamely.

"You don't know!" he shouted gleefully. He jumped to his feet and pointed at me. "You don't know!"

I grabbed my hair. "What don't I know, damn it?! What!"

He roared with laughter. All the other park patrons had rushed up and were now staring at me, pointing at me. "You don't know!" they yelled, laughing. "You don't know!"

"Why is this so funny?!" I pleaded. "Why won't you tell me?!"

My words only served to fuel their laughter.

Hot tears ran down my cheeks, and I clutched myself. "Why won't you tell me?" I wailed.

"You don't know!" they replied. Many of them were now crying, too, but for vastly different reasons. Several were even on the ground, they were laughing so hard.

I turned and ran blindly because of the tears obscuring my vision. I cried out in agony several times.

The laughter quickly faded; they were too busy expressing their mirth to follow.

I ran on regardless. Houses blurred past me, and I seemed to cover more and more ground with each stride. Soon, buildings sprang up and rushed by, blocking out most of the sky with their height.

And I ran on regardless.

My mind was racing just as fast. That proves it! I thought. This whole nightmare has to be a conspiracy to drive me mad! Everyone's against me! But why, damn it? It doesn't make any sense. Perhaps that's the whole point: I wouldn't understand. Perhaps... Perhaps... My mind reeled as it suddenly hit a brick wall. I didn't know! I needed answers, damn it, ANSWERS!

After what seemed like an eternity, I slowed down and collapsed from fatigue. No matter how hard I tried, I could not get any part of my body to move. Just as well, I thought. I closed my eyes and fell to sleep instantly.

Nightmares plagued my rest. The whole world was gathered around me, pointing and laughing. Nobody would tell my why, no matter how nicely I asked. Soon, the laughing became so loud and so out of control, that it hit the resonant frequency of the Earth, and the planet exploded, killing everyone except me. I floated in space, and the universe began laughing at me.

I awoke with a scream and jumped to my feet, crouching and glancing around warily. My whole body was sore, but I could move if I didn't mind pain. I was in a dingy neighborhood; trash was piled on the sidewalk, and dreary tenement buildings reaching to infinity lined the street.

A bag lady shuffled around the corner, stopping when she caught sight of me.

"Excuse me," I called out. "Do you know?"

She squinted at me. "Yes," she responded in a raspy voice. "Don't you?"

"Oh, of course," I lied. "Doesn't everybody?"

She drummed her fingers on her leg and shambled closer to me. "Sure," she said. "Everyone knows. Isn't that right?"

Panic was starting to build up inside, but I stayed where I was. I can easily outrun her, I reasoned. "Right. And it sure is funny what we all know, isn't it?"

"Yup. Sure is." She came to within five feet of me, then stuck her neck out to peer more closely.

A bead of sweat trickled down my nose, hung at the tip for a moment, then fell to the cement where it made a small, wet mark. I bit my lip, hoping that she hadn't seen that dead giveaway.

"Aha!" she cried. "I knew it! You don't know, do you?" She cackled loudly and slapped her knee. "You don't know!"

I was about to reach out and strangle her when I heard cacophonous screechings from above, as if God were scratching His fingernails on the sky.

I looked up, and, to my horror, all the tenement windows were opening. The bag lady cackled even louder as all the residents in the buildings poked their heads out, spotted me, and began their ridicule.

"You don't know!" they yelled. Their shouts rang out asynchronously and bounced around me, making me feel as if I were in a crazy echo chamber. Then the laughter crashed through, rolling up and down the buildings and sprinkled with continued exclamations of "You don't know!"

Through the mind-shattering din, it seemed to me that the walls of the buildings were starting to shake. My God! I thought, terrified. They've hit the resonant frequency!

I forced myself to sprint down the street, even though my muscles protested vehemently. I must get far enough away, I thought frantically, or else I'll be buried by the rubble!

I ran for several blocks and eventually came upon another park. I headed into it and collapsed at the base of a particularly sturdy-looking tree. It took me many minutes to regain my breath, but when I did, I rolled over and looked back down the street. The tenement buildings were still standing. And I could still hear their laughter, though it was fading fast.

The buildings didn't fall, I marvelled. What does this mean? I shook my head. I didn't know.

Exhaustion hit me like a ton of bricks. I laughed softly at the analogy and crawled off into some nearby bushes to sleep.

Sunlight shining in my eyes woke me from my pleasant slumber. I blinked and wondered, Why am I lying in a bed of shrubbery? Was I mugged? I thought in alarm. I sat up straight and looked around. The sun was low on the horizon, and it was uncommonly cold. I glanced at my watch, and it claimed that the time was 5:56 a.m. and that today was now Friday.

It was a new day, and...and I knew! Yes, I knew everything! I stood up and basked in the sunlight, thinking about the previous day's events. Soon I was chuckling, then guffawing, and finally I was rolling on the grass laughing uncontrollably.

Many minutes later, I sat up, rubbing the tears from my face and giggling weakly. I caught movement out of the corner of my eye and turned my head. The bag lady was tramping slowly towards me, a smile on her old and wrinkled face.

I smiled back and called out, "I know."

She nodded her head and sat down a few feet from me. "Wonderful, wasn't it?" she asked.

"Yes," I said. "Definitely."

"Many years ago, when I was young---younger than you, even---I also had the good fortune to not know. I'll never forget that day."

I nodded. "Yes, I'll treasure mine for the rest of my life."

The bag lady squinted at the rising sun. "Do you think," she asked after a long moment, "that I'll ever not know again?"

I thought over her question for a time and finally replied, "I don't know."

Robert Hurvitz is a computer science major at UC Berkeley who would rather be a writer, but doesn't want to starve. "The Big Joke" came to be from listening to too much Oingo Boingo and from too little sleep. This is his first story to get published, and he hopes that it won't be the last. When he's not doing anything else, Robert buys compact discs, skis, and hangs out in cafes. He just recently turned 21 and, as a result, feels much more mature.

hurvitz@cory.berkeley.edu