SPRING 2008 SHORT FICTION CONTEST

HONORABLE MENTION

Confines of the Pages
by Valerie Fentress

I knew what I was supposed to be doing, but my desires distracted me. Desires to escape to the written pages that could take me anywhere, drawing me away from the mediocrity and mundane existence that seem to confine me. Just the thought of the thick pages resting within the green wooden cover in my tote bag toyed at my mind.

An alarm buzzed me out of my musings. If I were to tell you that I worked in one of the leading infectious disease research hospitals in the country you'd probably be impressed. Well, most people are, and even I was when I took the job. I guess the recruiters in human resources can be pretty good sales folks if they want to be.

So here I am in my own sterile 10 by 10 square with centrifuges humming and that silly machine still beeping. The person that worked here before me called the machine Gorti, why I don't know, but he or she referred to Gorti with fondness in the procedure notes they left behind. You might consider it strange to think kindly of a machine, but when you spend your entire day with that contraption without another soul to talk to, you'd be surprised at how much you value its company.

I guess Gorti reminds me of one of the characters in the green novel huddling next to my wallet. Gorti is the reliable friend always standing at the main character's side pulling him out of trouble. That really isn't accurate, 'cause I'm the one that solves the problems Gorti throws at me while running lab samples. So that would make Gorti the main character and me in the supporting role, but that doesn't seem healthy to be the sidekick in my own life. Maybe I can be that semi-minor character that gains reverence as the story continues. One can hope, but that may mean finding another job.

Sure the newspapers say that my generation will change jobs at least seven times in their careers, but this is my first job out of grad-school. I left my friends and family to take this “cutting edge health care position.” That's what the HR person told me during my interview and that's what I told all those I cared about as I packed up my boxes. When my parents call, I try to keep up that hype. I know they'd only worry and somehow convince me back into the comforts of my old life if I told them how I really feel. When they ask about new friends in this strange place, the only people I have to talk about are the characters in that green book. Of course I leave out the part about them not being real, at least for now.

I feel closer to those characters, their troubles, emotions and their contagious laughter, than anyone else in this place. They feel as real to me as the test tubes I'm labeling, and Gorti's beeping. I'm just glad I work such long shifts or I would have to come up with another batch of friends when I turn to the next book I find at the used book store. I guess it's more fun to think of entering the world between the hard green covers than risking making friends in the real world.

I don't think I can count the number of books and movies I've submitted myself to that had characters from the real world that were pulled into the fictitious pages. I always wanted to be sucked into another world. To somehow be forced into being more than the smart kid. Becoming the hero, the love interest, anything more that the goofy kid I was, and still am. The desire really hasn't changed as I've gotten older, maybe it's only gotten stronger.

I'm sure there's someone who would psychoanalyze me and buckle the white coat on tight, but isn't that why we read in the first place? I guess that's more a philosophical question that my scientific mind would rather leave for other brainiacs to solve.

Now, I don't want you to think that I avoid talking to people. It's just the time of day I work. The graveyard shift doesn't bare that name because of all the interesting “spirits” you get to talk to. I usually greet the person that takes over my shift, and let them know what stage the samples are in, but by that time I'm too tired to really hold a meaningful conversation. I say good morning to the tram operator as I slip into my seat near his door. But then I pull out the drama and adventure of the written word and submerge myself into my company of friends.

When my friends have either submitted to their troubles or allowed their strong wills to force them to greater heights, I will have to put aside the green cover of these dear friends. Then maybe I'll talk to the man that sits across from me on the tram every morning, or the eclectic woman I see at the mail boxes on my way to work. One day, I might be ready for that, but today my desire is to return to the adventures in the thick pages that have me captivated.

Valerie Fentress has been writing and creating stories since she was little, but it wasn't until her Biomedical Science degree started playing second fiddle to the stories in her head that she embraced her passion. Her short stories have placed in several contests, and she's a contributing blogger for www.WOW-womenonwriting.com. Valerie has recently finished her first novel and is currently looking for the right publisher, while working on the next manuscript. Valerie lives in Houston, Texas with her husband, two dogs and baby number one on the way. To learn more about Valerie and her writing check out www.valeriefentress.com.