Episode Thirteen: Filing, Not Feeling
Constance Lawson had never, in all of her twelve years, seven months, and ten days of living, done something as utterly silly, nonsensical, and downright absurd. Sticking a feather in her hair as she went to sleep in order to travel into a shared dream with the girl from class with nuts falling out of her hair, the boy wearing mismatched socks, and a baseball jock? This was truly uncharted territory for Constance. Nothing made sense anymore.
Percival:Up was down. Left was right. Order was chaos. But as she opened her eyes and looked at the muted white hallways now surrounding her, the confused haze of having recently fallen asleep began to lift, and she began to recognize where she was. Suddenly, her confusion turned to worry as she realized she was going to have a lot of explaining to do. Episode Thirteen: Filing, Not Feeling
Codex:Running four minutes behind schedule this evening, I see.
Constance:Said a sharp voice with a stuffy British accent accent. I jolted and turned around.
Codex:This is the Bureau of Subconscious Affairs, Ms. Lawson, not the Bureau of Conscious Tardiness.
Constance:Standing on a desk, holding a clipboard that attached to the gears of his metallic owl like body was Codex. His wings were more folded filing folders than feathers and the glass lenses where his eyes should be blinked with soft ticks like a clock. His bronzed eyebrows were furrowed in such a way that suggested he was not at all happy about my tardiness. Oh, hello Codex, I said straightening my pin striped pajamas. No, wait.
Constance:My custom monogrammed pajama set had transformed into a black and white pantsuit. On my lapel was pinned a silver name tag with bronze etching that read, Miss Constance Lawson, Chief Subconscious Officer. On my feet were a pair of sensible black heels that made a satisfying rhythmic tapping sound that echoed through the halls. On the desk beside Codex, I recognized the tidy black briefcase with C Lawson engraved along the handle. I picked it up and felt better instantly, much more in control.
Constance:I apologize for being late, Codex. It was a thoroughly unusual evening back conscious side.
Codex:Well, you know what I always say,
Constance:Codex replied.
Codex:Disorder breeds chaos, Miss Lawson.
Constance:Codex flapped his wing and the clipboard disappeared with a clanging of gears and metal. He perched himself on a pedestal installed on the desk. At the base the pedestal was Codex's nameplate, signifying him as Head Archivist.
Codex:Shall we get to the task at hand then, Ms. Lawson?
Constance:I took a seat at the desk, my desk. I adjusted myself into the ergonomic but stylish silver desk chair, clicked the two clasps on the briefcase after setting it down on the desk, and delicately lifted the lid. Inside lay a glowing, humming metal cube about the size of a grown man's fist. I picked up the cube and inserted it into a slot directly beneath Codex's pedestal. It fit perfectly with a satisfying click.
Constance:The cube began to glow brighter, the light extending from the cube itself into the pedestal. Within a moment, the entire pedestal shined and Codex's eye mirrors flickered as he read the data stored inside the cube.
Codex:Daily Memory Module loaded, pattern buffer in sync, Memory Archival Procedure ready.
Constance:Codex said as he scanned through the images captured during my day rapidly. I am ready, Codex. But was I?
Codex:Very well, Miss Lawson. Let us begin with the fragments that have been marked for mandatory review, shall we? First data anomaly occurred at 9:07AM. Social friction emerged within Ms. Lawson's Project Group.
Codex:I am detecting high levels of verbal escalation followed by even higher levels of embarrassment and shame. The anomaly concludes with resignation and confusion. Do you care to explain, Miss Lawson?
Constance:I smoothed the wrinkles of my skirt while I formed a response. Ah, yes, you see the group was failing to live up to the standards necessary to achieve a good grade. So I reminded them that I was against doing our project on dreams altogether.
Codex:Yes, and then...
Constance:And then I may have perhaps accidentally told the group about how you and I talk, subconscious side.
Codex:I see.
Constance:Codex tilted his head 90 degrees.
Codex:My, oh my, that is highly irregular, Miss Lawson.
Constance:Yes, I know. That was the reason for the embarrassment and shame. I immediately regretted saying anything. I didn't mean to, it just sort of, I don't know, came out. I winced.
Constance:I hadn't meant to get so defensive.
Codex:Tut tut, Miss Lawson. There is no need for frivolous emotionality. This is merely an Archival after all. Now please continue your explanation of the anomaly.
Constance:I straightened my shoulders to compose myself. Despite my embarrassment and shame when I told the group about our talks, the way in which they responded caught me off guard. I dropped eye contact with Codex.
Codex:How so, Ms. Lawson?
Constance:Well, I expected them to laugh at me, make fun of me, call me names.
Codex:And did they treat you thusly?
Constance:No, they didn't. Quite the opposite, in fact. I wasn't sure how to bring this up, so I just came right out with it. Codex, Timmy discovered a piece of one of your feathers on his pillow when he woke up. Can you believe it?
Constance:I found one on my pillow last night too. I couldn't understand why it had been put there. Did you leave it for me to find? Codex shivered as if an ice cold breeze had blown through his gears, but there was no weather to speak of in these halls. He scanned his wings in search of a supposed missing feather, but came up empty.
Codex:I certainly did no such thing. Do you have any idea just how many policies and protocols that would violate M iss Lawson?
Constance:That was the closest Codex had ever come to raising his voice since I'd known him. He shook himself and gently groomed his feathers with his wing, the owl version of smoothing his skirt. If he noticed a missing feather, he clearly didn't want to talk about it. Curious. I'm sorry, Codex.
Constance:I didn't mean to imply that you violated any rules. I'm simply confused is all.
Codex:Well, that is why we are here after all, I suppose. Very well. Let's finish logging this Anomaly so we can move forward.
Constance:Gladly, the Archivers and I discovered that the mysterious feather could separate into four equal pieces. So each of us, Codex held up a wing.
Codex:I'm sorry, Ms. Lawson. Please explain. The Archivers?
Constance:That is what we've decided to call our group. I had no say in the naming process unfortunately. Timmy wants us to start our own Dream Archives, hence the name. I think it's a movie reference of some kind. Codex stretched his body and into a stiff upright position.
Constance:If I didn't know any better I would have sworn he was smiling? What was going on today?
Codex:Very well. Continue on.
Constance:His momentary lapse in character faded. We've decided that each of us should take one of the four feather pieces. Timmy has this crazy notion that if we were to all put the feathers on our pillows when we sleep that we will be able to share our dreams together. Nonsense, I know. But Timmy insisted.
Codex:Very well. Should we file this Anomaly as Processed or In-Transit?
Constance:Definitely In-Transit. I think I'm going to need a few more sessions to work this one out. Codex let out a faint hmph sound expressing his displeasure. He always hated it when we missed our daily quota.
Codex:Moving swiftly on, our second Anomaly occurred at 6:14P.M. Family friction emerged during dinner time.
Constance:Is this really necessary, Codex? Maybe we should be discussing the chewing gum incident that happened on the bus ride home?
Codex:It is mandatory that we review all anomalous fragments, Ms. Lawson. Do I need to print out another copy of the Bureau of Subconscious Affairs and Me, An Employee Handbook, for you to review?
Constance:Codex glanced over at the open briefcase. Seeing how he was the one who put it there in the first place, Codex already knew there was a copy of the handbook sitting in the front pocket. Fine, I muttered. Proceed.
Codex:In regard to Anomalous Fragment number two, I am detecting high levels of avoidance followed by extreme levels of passive aggression. Lastly, I noticed levels of fear and shame that are nearly too high to properly register. What is your explanation for all of this, Miss Lawson?
Constance:Speaking suddenly became more difficult. I don't know. It wasn't anything as bad as you make it sound. It was just dinner. If he heard me, he'd ignored me and continued processing.
Codex:Miss Lawson was seated in between ended parents for a twelfth consecutive time. Father remained silent for nearly the entire duration of dinner. Mother's offer of potatoes to father was ignored despite Father's plate conspicuously lacking potatoes. Mother's fork placement was unnecessarily loud following Father's unsolicited critique of your group project. Need I continue, Miss Lawson?
Constance:Codex, please stop. I begged. My throat tightened as I looked away, up to the ceiling, down to the desk, anywhere but right in front of me.
Codex:Mother and Father engaged in sustained verbal exchange at artificially lower decibel levels following Miss Lawson's retreat to the upstairs hallway. Yet, Miss Lawson remained in the hallway instead of proceeding to her bedroom. Why?
Constance:Codex, I mean it. Stop. My hands started to shake.
Codex:Miss Lawson could have safely retreated to her bedroom and avoided hearing the Forbidden Facts. Instead, she lingered in the hallway and heard what she cannot un.
Constance:Stop!
Constance:I snatched at the Memory Cube at the base of Codex's pedestal. It was locked firmly in place and wouldn't budge. I don't wanna discuss this Codex. I screamed as tears began to trickle down my cheeks under the cold marble floor. My own voice yelled back at me as it echoed down the endless corridors.
Constance:I don't wanna discuss this Codex. I ripped and clawed at the Memory Cube, but it was no use.
Constance:It remained solidly in place, reminding me of everything I wanted to forget in a tormenting loop.
Codex:Miss Lawson, I will remind you,
Constance:Codex said above the sound of my sobbing.
Codex:The Bureau of Subconscious Affairs is for filing, not feeling.
Constance:A puddle of tears formed on the desk. I know, Codex. I know.
Codex:The Bureau of Subconscious Affairs is for filing, not feeling.
Constance:Stop it, Codex. I heard you, alright? In-Transit. Okay? Are you happy now?
Codex:The Bureau of Subconscious Affairs is for filing, not for feeling.
Constance:My tears slowed as I looked back up at Codex.
Codex:The Bureau of Subconscious Affairs is for filing, not for feeling.
Constance:Something wasn't right. Codex twitched and glitched unnaturally.
Codex:The Bur...of sub affair...
Constance:Codex's pedestal began to change colors. The pedestal always glowed when the Memory Cube was plugged into it, but it had never changed colors before.
Percival:Not feel. Not feel. Not feel.
Constance:Codex wasn't glitching. He was stuck like a record skipping over the same scratch again and again, except this time the scratch was me. In a panic, I reached up and wrapped my hands delicately around Codex's abdomen, hoping to calm him down and free him from his prison.
Percival:Feel, feel, feel, feel, feel,
Constance:Codex repeated again and again. The pedestal rapidly pulsed through all the colors of the rainbow at a breakneck speed. Without a sound, the entire Bureau of Subconscious Affairs disappeared. Except for my desk and everything on it, the entire building was gone. Somewhere out in the darkness blew a faint whistle, and slowly a tree came to life right in front of me.
Constance:An impossible willow tree loomed over me. Its leaves shimmered in in the wind, changing colors like a million little chameleons. My jaw dropped with wonder. This was no longer the burrow, but a breathtakingly beautiful calm meadow that pulsed with radiant color. All that was left of the burrow was my desk.
Constance:With Codex perched upon his pedestal.
Percival:Feel. Feel. Feeeel. Feeeeeeeeeel.
Constance:Codex finally stopped.
Timmy:Hello Constance. Hello Codex.
Constance:Came a soft voice from behind me. One calming breath later, I turned. Standing next to a floating, glowing jellyfish was Timmy Jorgensen.
Percival:There are times in everyone's life when we reach fixed, pivotal moments, singular points in time where something so monumental occurs that nothing in life will ever be the same going forward, for better or worse. This was one such moment for Constance. There he stood, Timmy Jorgensen and his dream best friend, Hushglow, that he mentioned during class. Was she imagining it, or were they really there? Constance wanted to doubt.
Percival:It was in her nature, but more than anything, she wanted to be sure. She wanted all of this to be logical and follow the reliable steps and procedures of science and documented phenomena. But as she stood there, staring at Timmy and Hushglow, she felt against her very nature, her doubts begin to fade away. She had reached her pivotal moment. The only question now was where would this moment lead her?
Percival:Somewhere better or somewhere much worse?
Announcer:Thank you for listening. If you'd like to support the show and help bring the story to life, please consider joining us on Patreon at patreon.com/epicbedheadsaga. Patrons receive episodes one week early and exclusive behind the scenes content. You can also find us at epicbedheadsaga.com and on Instagram, TikTok, and Facebook. And if you're enjoying the show, please follow us on your podcast app of choice.
Announcer:It helps more than you know. The Epic Bedhead Saga is written, produced, and directed by Tyler Michael Jonsson. Episode 13 features Tyler Michael Jonsson as Percival, Codex, and Timmy, and Erin Culpepper as Constance. This episode was made possible with the support of our Dreamtender tier patrons, Nancy and Grant Jonsson. We'll see you next time.
Announcer:Until then, keep dreaming.
