A Million Versions of Right (20 page)

My eyes widened and I stopped struggling. Instead my foggy brain was working overtime trying to comprehend what I had just heard. “Would you boys mind telling me the truth you’re referring to?”

Titsy rose from his seat and stepped slowly toward me until he was mere inches from my face. His cantaloupe breath licked at me.

“You had us all convinced, Jack. We believed in good faith that you were out to capture the bald man. Instead it’s become apparent that you and he were in cahoots.”

I began to struggle again like a rabid animal acutely aware he was about to be put down. “What the fuck, Titsy?! You don’t honestly believe that shit do you?”

“Deny it all you like, Jack. It will only strengthen our case against you.”

“Would you bloated fucks mind filling me in?”

Titsy clutched at my chin with his wrinkled hand, using unnecessary levels of pressure.

“Your language is rather over the top don’t you think, Jack? You really ought to tone it down. You wanted to be a hero didn’t you? You didn’t feel like you were truly a part of the District? I mean, let’s face it, you have no qualifications in any of the multitudinous fields Barberdom has to offer. You wanted to make a little name for yourself didn’t you, Jack? You hire some patsy to start knocking over the comb jars simply so you can capture him and look like the hero. That really is pathetic, Jack.”

My hangover had bloomed into rage. This was an affront to my character and I wasn’t going to stand for it. My blood coursed through me like cracking whips, willing me into action.

“When exactly did you come up with this theory?” I asked through gnarled teeth, specks of spittle spraying Titsy’s face.

“It was after you left the convention last night. We all got to talking and through our inebriation we could see no other possibility. By early morning there was a crowd vying for your blood, Jack. You’re damn lucky I’m a just man. I don’t want to see any blood spilt within this district. You will simply be banished and I don’t foresee a situation in which your return will be possible.”

That was the final straw. Buoyed by a ferocious blast of adrenaline, I twisted from the human bondage and landed a swift uppercut to Titsy’s chin. He stumbled backward with flailing arms and cried like an injured choir of schoolgirls. His wrists exploded like over-inflated water balloons and bled arcs of cartoon rainbows, filling the room with multi-coloured light. Titsy fell in a pile on the floor, his body bubbling into muck seconds later.

“It’s happening again!” screamed another member of the force as he drove a novelty pen into his eye. The two men, who had only moments ago entwined me in their arms, now dropped their pants revealing unusually small penises. They began smashing their faces into a messy pulp on the wall to my left, eventually falling to the ground in exact synchronicity.

“You bastard!” said the remaining Force members just before clawing their throats away.

Still heaving with adrenaline, I surveyed the scene around me. Except for the writhing man who had penned himself in the eye, they were all dead. I made a hasty retreat for the exit, diving onto my stomach in order to fit into the corridor. A few well-timed farts helped propel me with increasing speed and I emerged on the street like a burst water main.

The street was still mercifully unpopulated but I couldn’t risk the possibility that I’d be seen. I decided to make use of the confusing side streets, which would add significant time to my journey home but was more likely to get me there in one piece. The adrenaline was slowly giving in to my hangover and I felt as if I would collapse. I wouldn’t allow myself to stop though. I needed to get out of this place. The word would soon be out and the whole fucking District would be after me. 

As I approached my apartment block my pace had involuntarily slowed to cautious edging. Cautious to the extent that it took me nine boring hours to cross my street and when I did finally cross, I was inexplicably naked and covered in crude street art. I covered my genitals with cupped hands and made a dash for the stairs.

I was in the middle of my third stride when a large butterfly net dropped over me, prohibiting my movement entirely. Before I could fully comprehend the situation I was plucked from the ground and half carried, half dragged away. The only glimpse I got of my abductor revealed that he wore a large red, satin cape that appeared to billow despite the lack of wind. It was shortly afterward that I passed out.

* * * * *

I ebbed into consciousness with fluttering eyes and meaty exertions. I had no idea where I was but it sure as hell looked like the walls of this place were made of animal skeletons. A blue tarpaulin stretched above me, dulling the sunlight and concealing my sense of environment. My head didn’t throb quite as much but the events of the morning were still distressingly vivid. Where the hell was I?

“Oh joy! You’re awake, Jack.”

 I craned my head toward the direction of the familiar voice. What at first looked like nothing more than a blurry silhouette slowly came into focus. It was Max. He was wearing the large cape that I’d glimpsed earlier and taking a kettle from the stove. He looked frustratingly content.

“Would you like some tea? It’s a special blend that I’m certain you’ll enjoy.”

“I want to know where the fuck I am!”

“You’re at my place, Jack. Believe me it wasn’t safe in your apartment.”

 Max walked carefully toward me with a steaming mug of tea that had a harsh odour to it. Several awkward seconds passed where I refused to accept the offering. Slightly defeated, he placed the tea beside me. “You really should drink up, Jack. It’ll do you the world of good.”

“Just tell me why I’m here. What happened to my apartment?”

“Let’s just say you had some guests waiting eagerly for your return. I take it you’re not a very well liked man at the moment?”

“Whatever gave you that idea?”

“There were men waiting for you in your apartment.”

“I was being sarcastic you fucking retard!”

“Oh, I’m terribly sorry. I…”

“Just cut it out, will ya? Who the hell are you?”

“But I already introduced myself. I’m Max.”

“Yeah, I know your fucking name but what’s your deal? Why have you been terrorising the Hair District?”

I felt as if the plug had been pulled on common sense and it was all draining away into nothingness.

“I tried to tell you last night, Jack, but you felt it necessary to give me a nasty whack. I would have told you this morning but you were keen as a bean to leave.”

“Well I’m all ears now.”

“The simplest way for me to put it is to say that I am a scientist engaged in field research.” Max took a sip of his tea and spat it out instantly. “Wow, that tastes particularly dreadful. I wouldn’t recommend touching yours, Jack.”

“Yeah, thanks for tip. What do you mean field research?”

“I wish to embark upon a process that could have a detrimental effect on the Hair District. At the same time, this process will almost certainly benefit mankind. Well, womankind primarily.”

“Care to enlighten me about this ‘process’?”

Max shifted in his chair and removed his cape, which he placed carefully at his side. He contorted his fingers into an intricate knot that he rested on his chin before continuing. “What do you know about menstruation, Jack?”

“As little as possible,” I replied with slight embarrassment.

Max outstretched his hand, as if attempting to stifle my embarrassment. “No, that’s okay. I’ll fill you in on a few things.”

Against my better judgement I gave him a nod, allowing him to continue.

“You see, Jack, menstruation wasn’t exactly a biological development. In fact, if we go back as little as a hundred and fifty years ago, there was no menstruation.”

My eyebrows rose in utter disbelief. “You’re a blade short of a pair of scissors.”

“I know it sounds absurd at first but please, hear me out.”

Once again I nodded, this time with a little less patience.

Max continued, “The world is governed by patriarchal ideals, Jack. The world of a hundred and fifty years ago was a deeply misogynistic one. I’d argue that in a great many ways it still is. Any misogyny you witness today however is nothing compared to back then. There was a deep-seated concern in the mid 1800s that women would soon rise to power and crush the dominion of the patriarchy. There was evidence everywhere you looked. Women were forming idealistic groups with the sole purpose of taking down the established system. Wages for women were rising astronomically. All of a sudden the common man didn’t feel too comfortable. There were meetings arranged at a very high level with the aim of rectifying the problem.

“My great, great grandfather was a key component of these meetings and a prominent scientist. He was one of several men charged with the task of reversing the ‘woman dilemma’ as it was known. It was quickly decided that propaganda wouldn’t be an effective course of action and might even do more harm than good. So they looked to my great, great grandfather to create a physical barrier within the body of womankind itself. This, Jack, was the origin of the menstrual cycle.

“Propaganda
was
eventually used but it was only to dupe women into receiving vaccinations for a mysterious virus that never actually existed. This vaccination ultimately delivered menstruation to the world. What was so ingenious about the injected menstruation was that it only needed to be applied to an individual once. After menstruation was planted it was engineered to pass onto any eventual female offspring. The menstruation was designed to emerge during the pubescent years and fade away when the potential usefulness of a woman was deemed over. This resulted in that strange phenomenon known as menopause.”

I had become literally dumbstruck by Max’s story. I’d never heard anything with so many logical loopholes in my life but his enthusiasm was strangely admirable, even if it did indicate extreme delusional psychosis. So many questions swam about my skullspace but there was only one I was interested in.

“So, what does this shit have to do with me?” I was staring at Max intensely, willing a satisfactory answer to come forward.

“It’s because of your standing within the District, Jack. I’m in a position where the repercussions of my actions won’t be significant enough to provide satisfactory empathic data.” His hands gesticulated with each word, earnest passion leaking from him like sweat.

“You’re going to have to dumb it down for me. What ‘position’ are you in that requires my input?”

“Don’t you see? I’m bald, Jack!”

My face was drooping with incomprehension. “What the hell does being bald have to do with anything?”

A look of apology washed across Max’s face. “Oh, I haven’t told you the bit that involves you yet, have I?”

I shook my head, partly in response but mostly in bemusement.

“Well Jack, if I follow through with abolishing menstruation…”

I cut him off instantly. “What do you mean ‘abolishing menstruation’? You’re making less sense the more you talk. Do you have any idea how fucking nuts you sound?”

Max shifted uncomfortably in his chair, rubbing at his legs fiercely. “Do you know what makes this so sad, Jack? I had spent hours rehearsing every little thing I was going to tell you. I get so caught up in the moment that I leave out the most important parts. If you’ll allow, I’d like to fill you in.”

I huffed like a moody teen. “Well you’ve come this far, why stop now?”

“Thank you, Jack!” Max repositioned himself and prepared for what I hoped would be the rest of the story. “Okay, so women all over the world have been infected with menstruation which, for a period of time, achieves the desired goal. Many feel ashamed and many feel as if there is something gravely wrong with them. All doctors – and we’re talking on an international scale here, Jack – have been requested to inform concerned women that menstruation has always existed and every woman is afflicted. The trust instilled in the family doctor meant that the lie was a surprisingly easy pill to swallow. The shame associated with the vaginal area ensured that most women never spoke of it. Those that did were deemed crass to the point of imprisonment. It was the birth of the biggest conspiracy ever perpetrated by mankind.

“It didn’t take long before my great, great grandfather began to regret everything he had helped instigate. His scientific detachment gave way to empathy and he made it his mission to reverse the onset of menstruation. He began working tirelessly on a remedy. The walls had eyes and ears though, Jack, and he was soon discovered. Just as he completed his first trial batch of ‘woebegone’, as he called it, he was set upon by pornography. It was a physical manifestation of pornography sent by some very powerful people to kill him. He was dead in an instant.