Last weekend, I had trouble sleeping. I tried counting sheep, thinking that was supposed to help people fall asleep. After a few sheep wandered across the imaginary field in my mind, my thoughts drifted to a story about counting sheep. I wound up spending way too much time working on the story in my head, and hardly slept as a result. Such is the life of a writer. On the other hand, I have a story that I can share with all of you. It's only about 1,000 words long, so it won't take long to read. I hope you enjoy the fruits of my insomnia!
Note: You can also find this story and others on my Wattpad page.
Counting Sheep
The shift leader brings me into a room with a desk pressed against
one wall. A monitor and a keyboard are the only objects occupying the
desk. Their cables disappear through holes in the wall so that I can't
see what they're connected to. An old leather chair sits next to the
desk. There is nothing else in the room.
"This is where you'll be working," he says.
He
taps on the keyboard, and the screen lights up. It shows an image of an
empty field. Green grass fills every pixel except for a layer of sky at
the top.
The shift leader points to a button on the keyboard labeled START.
"When
you're ready to begin, just hit this. Then keep your eye on the
monitor. Occasionally, you'll see a sheep cross the screen. If it
travels from right to left, add one to the total. If it travels from
left to right, subtract one."
"So I'm... counting sheep?"
"Yes."
"Aren't you afraid I'll fall asleep?" I chuckle, but he doesn't laugh.
"Your profile indicates that you will not fall asleep during the task."
I've never read the information that the State has collected about me. I have no idea how they know that I won't fall asleep while counting sheep when that's exactly what you're supposed to do in order to fall asleep.
"Are you sure this is the job for me? I understand that all Citizens are supposed to work when they turn eighteen, but I think there'd be a better fit. I did well in my math classes."
"Counting is math," the shift leader says.
"It's math that a four-year-old can do."
"There are quite a lot of sheep."
"OK, maybe a five-year-old."
"We're certain this is the right job for you to start with."
Start with? Does that mean this won't be a permanent assignment? "What happened to the last person who had this job?"
"She was promoted."
"Oh, this job leads to promotions? What does she do now?"
"She works in Accounting."
"That's nice. I think I'd like Accounting. I can use my math skills."
"We'll see." He points to the START button again. "Are you ready to begin?"
"I guess so." My finger hovers over the button. "Just press it?"
"Yes, whenever you're ready."
I hit the button.
Nothing appears on the screen. I see only the empty field.
"Nothing's happening. Are you sure it's working?" I ask.
"Give it some time. The sheep aren't going to start moving just because you hit the button."
Which is exactly what I thought would happen. "How long does it take?"
"A few seconds. Maybe minutes. Assuming they move at all."
"Why exactly would they be moving? What did the START button do?"
"It releases a pheromone at the other end of the field."
"A sheep pheromone?"
"Yes, that's what we're testing. We want to see how many sheep are attracted to various sheep pheromones and how quickly they respond."
"Why are we testing sheep pheromones?"
"To determine which ones are most effective."
"And why do we need effective sheep pheromones?"
He stares at me like the answer should be obvious. "It's obvious. The State thinks it's important."
I want to ask why the State thinks effective sheep pheromones are important, but I keep my mouth shut.
A sheep suddenly appears on the right side of the screen. "There's a sheep!" I say. It moves at a leisurely pace across the field to the left border of the screen before disappearing from view. "It went from right to left. Add one?"
"Correct."
I enter 1 on the keyboard.
The screen resumes its empty-field state again for a few more seconds. Then a second sheep crosses from right to left. I add another 1 to the total.
Every few seconds, one more animal traverses the length of the screen. They all move from right to left. None travel in the opposite direction. The section of the field that the monitor shows doesn't let me see where the sheep are coming from or where they're going.
I ask the shift leader, "How do I know it's not the same sheep over and over?"
"What do you mean?"
"What if, after a sheep leaves the left edge of the screen, someone picks it up and carries it back to the right side?"
"We'd see them if that was the case."
"Not if they walked behind the camera."
"Why would they do that?"
"How should I know? I'm just a lowly sheep counter."
"No one's carrying the sheep back. Besides, the sheep all look different."
"They look the same to me."
"They're different. Trust me." A sheep appears on the right edge of the screen. "See, that one is larger than the one we saw before."
"That's because it's closer to the camera."
"No, it's larger."
I don't argue. We watch in silence as the sheep crosses the screen. I add one to the total. Shortly thereafter, another sheep comes into view.
"This one looks just like the last one, and the one before that," I say.
"No, it's smaller."
"Because it's farther away from the camera."
"No, really, it's smaller."
I close my eyes. There's no point in arguing with him.
My eyes open when he says, "You forgot to increment the count."
I tap the key to add to the tally. "What happens if I miss one? What if I enter the wrong number or if I doze off?"
"That's OK, they'll do a count of the number of sheep on the left side at the end of the trial."
"What? Why am I here then? Wouldn't it be easier if they just counted the total number of sheep themselves?"
The shift leader scratches his chin. "Well, maybe. But then you wouldn't have a job, and it's important for all Citizens to have a job after they turn eighteen."
"Is this just busy work? Do I serve a meaningful purpose to the State by being here?"
He glances at his watch. "Oh, look at the time. Your shift is up. See you tomorrow."
I can't have been in the room for more than ten minutes. "Are you sure?"
"Of course, I'm the shift leader. It's my job to keep track of such things."
"If you say so. See you tomorrow."
He waits for me to leave, but he stays inside the room. I wave goodbye. He waves back. I have a feeling I'll have a new shift leader tomorrow.
