SandBoxed Paradise...or is it a Prison

CHAPTER SIX

Dagger sat on his sofa amidst the mess he had created. Pizza boxes, dirty glasses, and garbage surrounded him. On his left sat a wall of computers he had not powered on in weeks, not since the day he was fired...the same day he learned of Jeannie's death. At least, not until today.

It didn't matter that he suspected foul play. They had closed the case; and, despite his genius he found no answers on his own. Of course, that fight was a futile effort of distraction. None of it would bring her back.

He was ashamed that he didn't attend the funeral, but it was more than he could bear. She was such an innocent, and he had failed to protect her. Maybe that was why so many weeks later he sat in his own filth, with no exact memory of his last shower.

Out of respect, he had stopped questioning, stopped meddling. She had insisted she was in love. For God's sake, he had even walked her down the aisle at her wedding. Now, he couldn't stop wondering about what really happened, wondering if that man had something to do with her death.

Jeannie had been his best friend since the day they met. He owed everything to her. Although, Jeannie would have winked and stated it was the other way around. She would have insisted that without him her dreams would never have become a reality. That she would have remained lost in her own bubble, drawing diagrams and solving the world's problems in her head, never acting on them. Dagger would have countered that If it hadn't been for Jeannie he would've ended up in a cubicle. His work would have made no difference in the world; and, whatever he did create would have been owned by the corporation that held him in servitude.

Hmpff, guess that isn't much different than how it turned out; but, oh what a ride. They made a great team.

She had vision, that girl, and passion fueled by a promise. She was younger than he was by about ten years, but it took all of ten minutes to recognize that her brain was much older than her tiny body. He could still see her walk into that first tech seminar, in what became her signature black pin-stripe pantsuit with a pointed white collar, biting her bottom lip like she always did when she was nervous. She sat next to him and nodded politely in greeting. Looking way too young to be there, even with her hair clipped up so elegantly in a French twist, he had asked her if she was in the right place.

She didn't speak, only nodded again as she pointed to her textbook. Dagger raised his eyebrows, still not convinced. She couldn't have been more than what, fourteen? She finally gave him a tentative smile, and with direct eye contact whispered, "Never judge a book by its cover."

Fifteen minutes later she was taking notes on what the professor was spewing and furiously drawing diagrams. Fascinated by her focus, he leaned forward to catch a glimpse of her work.

She had created two columns. The left column was a clear outline of the server design being presented on the slides above. She had crossed them out, attaching labels in all caps: WRONG, TOO SLOW, REDUNDANT, NO JOY. The words were underlined and followed by exclamation points. Next to each was an arrow pointing to the column on the right where she was writing equation after equation.

As the bell rang and students filed out, she sat up tall and straight to survey her work. Then she nodded to herself, obviously pleased with her findings, and drew a smiley face at the bottom. The two eyes looked like S's with a round "O" for a nose, finishing it off with a silly toothy grin and flower petals surrounding the head.

His chuckle alerted her, prompting beautiful blue eyes to lift and notice his stare. Embarrassed, he had clumsily reached out his hand to formally introduce himself. He remembered feeling silly as he realized how much this young, exotic creature intimidated him.

She responded with a surprisingly firm grip, saying only "Jeannie, Jeannie Doxide."

"Would you like to go for a cup of coffee or hot chocolate or...something?" he remembered asking as he shuffled papers and tried to regain his composure.

"That would be most pleasant. Thank you. It's my first day," she lilted as she shrugged. "I appreciate the kind welcome. Have you ever been to the juice bar on the corner?"

Over the next half hour they discovered how much they had in common; and, the only thing they would ever genuinely argue about: food.

Jeannie was all natural, all vegetable, all the time. Dagger was...not.

They had spent almost every waking hour together since then, and many passed out and slumped over a keyboard facing a computer console. Her death and lack of physical presence did not change that fact for Dagger. Jeannie had been on his mind every day, and every minute, as he sat there in his zombie-like state.

God, how I loved her. Nothing seems right without her.

Reliving memories like this was a daily appointment on his misery agenda. This particular memory, however, was prompted by the date on the calendar. It was their anniversary.

Fifteen years ago today they sat at that juice bar table where he tried to explain how he got his nickname of Dagwood. He spoke the words while simultaneously shoving an extra-large sandwich into his mouth. In response, she had looked at him like he was losing his mind, wearing a cute and confused contorted expression.

"Dagger? I'm sorry. I don't get it."

They laughed about it many months later when she was finally exposed to the classic cartoon, but by then it was done. To her, he would always be Dagger. She said it fit him better anyway, due to the way he stabbed at code and sliced it up until it worked.

He didn't realize what day it was when he woke this morning, didn't care ... until the reminder played on his phone. Every year on this date they would celebrate their meeting at a juice bar. On their Smart Calendars it was noted by four words: "Never judge a book," and the audible alarm was a song that had many meanings for them: "I Always Feel Like Somebody's Watching Me."

He didn't have to look at the phone when the alarm played, he dropped the three-day-old slice of pizza back in the box and bawled like a baby. He knew what he had to do. It was time to keep his promise, but he just wasn't ready to let go.

Perhaps that is why he stalled his actions by scanning the personal effects he salvaged, sending them floating into nowhere and to no one. For him it was symbolism, a small fruitless effort to keep her alive forever.