Otto and Multitude Man: A Confined Conversation In Medias Res Part I
They are confined.
Close quarters.
The air freshener is perfect for one, a bit pungent for the other. They have been over this before. No accounting for taste. On that they can agree.
“Are you still feeling sick?” Otto asks.
“How do you mean?” asks Multitude Man.
“Don’t mess with me. I want to know about your symptoms.”
“Well you will have to be more specific.”
“The rank smell coming from your side. Even that cover up spray won’t hide the rotting insides of a man like you,” Otto says.
“I do believe you underestimate that spray. There is no other odor on this end,” Multitude Man states.
“I do believe your nose might be elongating.”
“If you bother with faerie tales we will whither.”
“If you bother with speaking some truth, we might thrive.”
Silence. No acquiescence. Just a pause.
“I cannot fathom the depths of the soul,” Multitude Man says.
“Why are you sharing this with me? Have you finished with the Sunday funnies?” Otto implores.
“It is Thursday. I will finish tomorrow.”
“Ok.”
“Can you fathom?” Multitude Man asks.
“I know that your thought process bothers me,” Otto says flatly.
“Well seeing through your lens must be tiresome. Such a concrete sequential processor in that noodle of yours,” observes Multitude Man.
“Is it noodles tonight?” Otto asks, his eyes brightening.
“Not at all.”
“The proof is in the pudding.”
“There we differ,” Multitude Man says slowly. “That saying never makes sense. But to use it now?” His thoughts trails off.
“I must be having hunger pains,” Otto offers.
“In the depths of your soul?”
“Look around!” Otto waves his hands in a circle above his head. “And the thought that I could process some noodles and never emit a smell such as the scent coming from over there…”
“Legumes are legitimate players in the realm of my nutritional preferences!” Multitude Man says, suddenly passionate. “There is a long way around this, but we can just cut to it if you want.”
“This seems like fresh territory for you.”
“And so for you it must turn out to be exhausting. But you did bring up the whole thing,” Multitude Man says, now delighted to have an upper hand.
“We barely scratched the surface on this before getting derailed into discussing fathoms and depths!” Otto fires back.
“Surface scratching offers no lasting relief.” Multitude Man scratches his cheek for effect, leaving a mark.
“Well let’s delve deeper into the heart of this thing between us!” Otto states, hoping for some kind of sure footing.
“That barrier defines the space. We need definition.”
“Do we? And what do those Sunday funnies define?” Otto asks.
“A way to share some plausible truths about the human condition that defy the barrier.” Multitude Man stares at a smudge on his side, possibly trying to work out his reasoning.
“We need the barrier so we can defy it?” Otto inquires.
Multitude Man takes a breath. He considers the implications before saying, “Only sometimes.”
Otto cringes and his face reddens slightly. “You are so full of red herrings! Maybe that is what smells.”
“We cannot have red herrings when we are musing out loud.” He faces Otto. “And I do look forward to sharing the funnies with you.”
“Well you are consistent with that gesture, in all this time we have been together. Though I am not sure I would use the word ‘sharing’ in this context,” Otto says.
“Do you share? When you are not in these confines?”
“I would. But that question must be clarified. What is in the mix? What are we sharing?” Otto pleads for direction as his thoughts peal outward and he turns towards the barrier.
“I must take rest. But you can think it over on your own,” Multitude Man says before retreating to his side of the space, indicating clearly in his mind and in the agreed upon parlance of confinement that he is finished with the interaction.
For the moment.