Pretty Ring — Chapter 2

After at least an hour of commuting by car, bus, train, and on foot, she finally arrived. That morning, as one of the country’s loyal dogs, she had to attend the assembly — a place where dogs watched other dogs in slightly better attire perform on stage.

The megaphone blared out, barking orders for the dogs to gather in one place. The low ranked stood on the lower ground while the higher ranked occupied the elevated platforms. They were further separated according to rank. The institution seemed to adore hierarchy and displayed it openly, making sure everyone knew the differences between each level. They were gathered here at least once a month to watch and listen to the higher-ups perform. The performances varied: sometimes they played anger, sometimes sincerity, sometimes ecstatic enthusiasm. At times, the speeches were so dull that half the audience looked ready to fall asleep.

The official at the front seemed to have chosen to perform the personage of discipline.

“We don’t care if you have to cross the mountains to get here! Seven o’clock is seven o’clock! You have to show your face in this bureau! If that’s too difficult, nothing can be done! You can always resign. It’s not like most of you have anything to do here anyway, yes?” He spoke passionately. The performance of discipline seemed to be particularly favored by officials these days, perhaps because arriving on time was the only thing the current mayor was known to do well. “If you don’t come, we’ll cut your already insignificant salary! Besides, it’s only fair, isn’t? We can’t have everyone receiving the same amount despite having completely different workloads! Yep, yep!” His saliva sprayed from his mouth with every emphatic word. His chest heaved with the sincerity of his performance, and a broad grin stretched across his wrinkled face. At one point, his teeth nearly kissed the microphone as he leaned forward to hammer home his point. “Perhaps not all of you receive actual tasks despite working in the same building! The work goes only to the chosen people! Yep, yep! Which means you’re not licking your superior’s feet hard enough! Good luck! Goodbye! See you at the next assembly!”

After the speech, everyone clapped and saluted him as he retreated from the platform.

Mero actually liked fixed rules. 7 A.M. was the designated time for this daily assembly. Still, she occasionally wondered what merit there was in maintaining such rituals. Everyone wore the same clothes and the same colors, though a few ranks were marked by slight variations. The overall dress code remained identical: polished black shoes, matching uniforms, and standardized insignia. This country certainly seemed to value appearances, labels, and resemblance more than whatever lay underneath.

When the assembly finally ended, Mero and the other employees dispersed from the spot. A sea of people in identical uniforms walked at the same pace, their loafers clicking against the ground, pathetically believing they were unique individuals. People’s voices echoed as every group talked about a different topic.

A gentle morning breeze swayed Mero’s skirt. She looked up and found the sky clear, as blue as the ocean. It was a sunny day, with white fluffy clouds like cotton candy. Ah… a drop of saliva rolled down the corner of her mouth as she gazed at it absentmindedly.

Suddenly, one of her colleagues, a very tall woman named Adriana Putri, patted her shoulder.

“Morning, Mero,” she said, grinning widely and showing her pale yellowish teeth. The corners of her eyes wrinkled and the muscles in her face flexed. “Have you sent a gift for the boss’s newborn baby?”

Mero blinked. She hadn’t heard about it, or perhaps she simply hadn’t been listening.

She shook her head.

Adriana barked a laugh, her head titling back, one hand resting on her stomach. “It’s okay. You still have plenty of time. I myself haven’t prepared anything.”

They passed the bureau’s well-maintained yard and stepped into the building. The building had enough lights, but to Mero it always looked gloomy. There was only one door at the front and one at the back. It reminded her of a snake. The front door was the mouth; you entered like a mouse and ended up at the back door as a turd.

They walked down the hallway toward their office. Along the way, they greeted other colleagues, bowing their heads slightly.

In one of the rooms, a heated argument was taking place. A tall, slender man and a shorter, fat man, both wearing crisp white shirts, looked perfectly dignified.

“Oh! Mister! You certainly will not take seven percent of the profit! We already used half of the money to keep the police and prosecutor quiet! You can’t just take larger percentage from mine!” the tall, slender man said with a strained smirk. The smile was so wide it almost reached his ears. “It can’t be helped! It can’t be!” he spoke in a sing-song tone, waving his hand dismissively in front of the fat man’s face.

The fat man’s eyes bulged at the words; he shrieked like a banshee.

“It happened because you were too cowardly to actually reduce the specifications of the building! Nobody would know if a few bricks were missing! It could have increased our profit!” he said indignantly, his fat body taut as though he were a spring ready to pounce, his hands clenched into fists.

The tall man barked a laugh, slapping his forehead at the foolishness. “Oh! How shameful! How brainless!” he said, pointing at the shorter man.

The fat man felt a rush of heat run down his spine at the jibe. He gritted his yellowish teeth, then finally pounced like a jack-in-the-box and suddenly bit off the pointing index finger. As soon as his jaw clamped shut, blood splattered like a bursting water balloon, staining their crisp suits.

“EEP!” the slender man cried, jerking his hand away. His eyes twitched violently as he looked at his ruined right hand, blood pumping from the broken veins, his bones jagged like snapped bamboo.

Slowly, he turned his head toward the fat man, shrieked like a monkey, and pounced back onto the shorter man. His eyes were wide and wild. He immediately opened his mouth wide and chomped down onto the man’s throat, blood spurting onto his face and the room.

The fat man wailed and struggled against the hold. His plump fists pathetically thumped against the man chewing on his neck, the blow weak and entirely harmless. The bite was unyielding. Slowly, the wailing turned into choking sounds. His eyes bulged out, tears streaming down his oily, clogged-pores cheeks. His body trembled as he felt the tall man chewing through muscle and flesh. Wet crunching sounds filled the closed space along with the hum of the air conditioner.

The fat man began having a seizure. Even then, his hands frantically searched his pockets, took out his wallet, and hugged it protectively.

When Mero and Adriana passed by, hyenas and vultures the size of people, standing upright on two feet, were already lining up at the door, patiently waiting for their turn to enter the room. One of the vultures was exceptionally tall, almost reaching the ceiling. It crouched down until its face was level with Adriana and Mero’s. Its beak was stained with dried blood and maggots from its previous feast. This time, it was also waiting for another carcass to devour.

“Adriana… Mero… have you read the email I sent you three days ago during the holidays?” it asked, its beak opening and closing.

Adriana smiled at it and clapped her hands. “Of course… of course, ma’am. I used my holiday to review work. I finished so I could start another task right away when I returned to the office.”

The vulture glanced at Mero.

“Ah… I believe you haven’t done yours,” it said. It neither frowned nor smiled, though the set of its beak and the twitching of its eyes suggested otherwise. “I know you are still young and new here, but you can’t keep wasting your days off resting at home or playing with your family. We have many things to do, and everyone sacrifices something to keep the wheel spinning. Please be more considerate next time.”

Inside, the fight between the tall, slender man and the short, fat man had ended. The fat man was still clutching his wallet tightly against his chest. His eyes were wide with pure horror, and tears still streamed down his face despite his death. His head was almost severed from his neck, attached only by a thin layer of skin. Blood had painted the floor red.

The hyenas at the front of the line sniffed the freshly dead body that the tall man had carelessly left behind, they finally stepped into the room, followed by the other hyenas and vultures.

The vulture that had been talking to Adriana and Mero finally stood up straight again.

“It’s time to work,” it said, bending its long, furry neck low enough to fit through the doorway, leaving Adriana and Mero standing in the hallway.

Inside, the hyenas and vultures stood in a circle, gazing down at the body. One of the hyenas put on a pair of glasses and began writing in a notebook, carefully noting down the names of the other hyenas and vultures. Another vulture typed numbers with many zeros into its calculator.

The work had always been done fairly and in an organized manner, to distribute the carcass evenly among fellow creatures that could only survive on carcasses killed by a larger creature.

Adriana and Mero finally left the spot and headed toward their office.

“Hahaha, they all look the same. I almost didn’t recognize our own manager!”

Mero nodded in agreement. She too could neither recognize nor tell them apart.

When Adriana and Mero stepped into their office, the hum of the air conditioner welcomed their ears. It had been broken for three months now but had yet to be repaired because the bureau could not possibly fix anything without some sort of error. The scent of paper, ink, and furious typing filled the room.

The office contained the usual variety of people naturally found in other bureaus, or rather any part of the world. There were the hardworking ones, who usually received the workloads that the people currently in contact with the higher-ups did not desire. There were also those with no actual work because they were either too dumb or had been isolated after offending important people. And then there were bystanders who simply wanted to get through the day.

At the large wooden desk sat Mr. José da Silva, one of the higher-ups, signing documents that he had never actually read. Adriana and Mero greeted him, bowing their heads slightly.

“Good morning, Adriana, Mero,” he said with a warm smile. “Have you returned from the usual assembly?”

Mr. José was wearing his usual crisp suit. His hair was combed neatly, though he was barefoot. Two employees of the bureau, one man and one woman, were on the floor, licking his feet. The man was sweating bullets and breathing heavily. His tongue had grown noticeably long after licking for so long. A particularly long lick made his eyes roll back into their sockets as he savored the sensation of skin against his taste bud. And the other foot was the woman, licking at a faster pace and occasionally looking up with a pleading expression, yearning for the man’s favor. They had been at it ever since Mr. José obtained his current position. The two of them had started to grow ears and tails. They had also begun to lose proper speech, replacing it with barks, howls, and whimpers.

Mr. José glanced at Adriana, “is there anything new from the morning assembly?”

Adriana took a deep breath.

“Nothing much, sir! Just another demand for us to come to work on time or they will cut our salary again — for the third time this month.”

Mr. José nodded, registering the information.

“That is affirmative. We are worker ants with the sole purpose of advancing toward a better future. The exact time of its arrival depends on how well we perform our duties,” he said with a broad smile. He was such a warm and intellectual man.

Mero was stunned by the noble intention. To realize that the purpose of her struggle was supposedly for the sake of many people. Though she was slightly puzzled about what that future would actually look like.

“The better future would be a glorious nation. It would be glorious because its people live prosperous lives. No one would be hungry. Everyone would be full in a way that gave them vigor, not nausea. Everyone would have a roof above their heads — a proper roof, not the kind with holes through which rain and wind seep into their beds. And everyone would have clothes upon their skin, the kind that protected them from heat and cold. It would be a country where everyone is paid according to their hard work, equal healthcare and equal before the eyes of the law. It would be a nation where the rights of all people are treated equally and everyone is civilized.”

Mr. José paused to catch his breath, his chest heaved and his eyes glazed with unshed tears as he imagined what he had just said. Even the man and woman who had been licking his feet stopped and looked up to hear the grand speech of this imagined ideal.

“That kind of fairness… that kind of world…” he continued solemnly, his usual bright and sincere eyes darkening. “It would surely reduce crime to zero. No one would have any reason to hurt others. No one would kill for a petty wallet on the street. No one would burgle a house and murder everyone inside. The parents would actually be stable adults who would not raise monsters for the next generations.”

He paused, his eyes lifting as though he had just received a revelation from God.

“That is the future we are trying to reach…”

Adriana and Mero listened carefully. Adriana’s face was equally solemn. She closed her eyes, trying to picture the image Mr. José had described, trying to feel the same vision.

Mr. José rested his hands upon the table. The man and woman on the floor had finally sat down, their tails wagging.

“And we can reach that future… we will surely reach that glorious nation… if we offer our time in the world and energy willingly, without asking for anything in return… if we plant that willingness within our souls.” He spoke in desperation, his face drenched in tears. “We must walk in rhythm with one another, lend our shoulders to each other. We must use every ounce of our intellect and our muscles… to lead… to serve… to guide the people in harmony…”

The man and woman with tails howled as though they, too, felt the tremendous emotions within Mr. José.

“Our compass is God. God will surely lead the way if our intentions are pure and heroic. Humanity shall be the foundation of our actions. Justice! And law! The ultimate and defined laws that our ancestors created! The sole, the first law that gave birth to hundreds and hundreds of spotless and flawless laws!” He clutched his chest as if his heart would burst free if he did not hold it tightly enough. “The ideals… the future we desperately wish for… the law… and us! The slaves of the glorious nation shall be tools! Tools for the defined leaders chosen by the people of this glorious nation… The Chosen One would be the one favored by the people themselves. They would be our supreme leader. Our leashes and our lives would be in their hands. How we achieve that glorious nation would be defined by the Chosen One, our God on this nation, and we shall act according to our nature as loyal dogs…”

He paused, as if he had just remembered something buried deep inside him for a long time. His eyes began to twitch, his jaw ticking.

“The people… the people will be the one to choose. But… what competence do they actually have to determine who should be the supreme leader? To decide who shoulders that heavy responsibility?!”

Slowly, his eyes widened in horror. He began shrieking, crying, and wailing, screaming incoherent things.

“BLURGH! HYEEEIII YOOO! GRAAAH! BASTARD! BASTARD! GYEEE! WEEEI WOEEE! HOOOEK!”

The man and woman with tails also wailed along with him.

Adriana gasped, holding her breath as she awaited the continuation of the speech.

Mero’s eyes widened in anticipation.

Mr. José gritted his teeth. His eyes had turned feral.

“Everyone is in a hurry, thirsting for a good leader! But what do they know? Good God, what do they know except for the performances those pigs put on?! And yet they have the ultimate right to decide?! The one who will hold power over everything will be chosen by majority rule! What if the majority chooses the wrong one?! The one who knows how to steal the hearts of the majority will surely be chosen, whether they are a fool or not!” His hands scratched at his face in pure sorrow. “That cannot be right! That cannot be! The son of God is created and chosen by God himself! Not by the people who merely know which performances the majority favor! And what about the future?! What about us, the ant workers?! The people?! The law?! We will only become the tools to achieve the dirty and snotty goal of those chosen pigs!”

Overwhelmed by sorrow and terrible pressure, he suddenly started smashing his forehead against the mahogany desk.

CRACK.

CRACK.

CRACK.

The sounds of bone striking wood and the gush of blood filled the room.

Adriana and Mero gasped in unison at the display of pure helplessness.

After thirteen strikes, he stopped.

He leaned against his leather chair and looked up at the ceiling as if it held answer. His eyes were red and swollen from crying. His forehead was swollen and split open, blood streaming down his face.

He sniffed then exhaled.

“Ah… democracy…” he mused softly.