Ghost of the Times

            Things were not going well for Jason Stillman.  He had been laid off from his job more than two years ago because the company had decided to eliminate the position.  His unemployment insurance had run out long ago, and now he didn’t qualify for more because he hadn’t earned any money in the previous year.  After a long and fruitless search for a position in his field, he began looking for anything that would give him a paycheck.  Unfortunately, he kept running into the same sets of replies.  “We’re not hiring at this time. If you like you can leave your resume.”  “We’re terribly sorry, but you just don’t have the experience we are looking for.”  “You’re over-qualified.  How do we know you won’t leave us if you find a position in your field.”  “You don’t meet our minimum requirements.  Sorry, I can’t tell you what those requirements are.” 

 

            Now, he was living with his mother.  He had been evicted from his apartment for failure to pay the rent, and had lost everything in the apartment to pay the rent he already owed.  He also had no transportation anymore.  His car had been repossessed because he could no longer afford the payments.  That made it even harder to find work.  He was limited to what he could find within walking distance.  Unfortunately, there wasn’t much that fit that category.  What little there was, he had already tried several times. 

 

            Sitting in his mother’s living room, he looked around.  All he could see belonged to his mother.  He couldn’t find anything that he could call his.  He no longer even got any mail.  The bill collectors had written off his debts as unrecoverable.  He tried to keep looking for work, but after months of not finding anything he was remotely qualified for, it was hard to keep at it. 

 

            His mother tried to help him, but she was busy with her job and her friends.  She still loved him, but she just didn’t have the time to help him.  Besides, she had been taught that one had to help themselves.  You can’t do everything for another or they won’t learn to do anything on their own.  So she did what she could.  She would get the paper for him, made sure there was always food in the house, and tried not to badger him. 

 

            One day, he decided to try for a job at the local supermarket again.  He walked over and sat down at the small computer console they now used for applications.  Hitting the start button, the screen lit up.  Just above three blank boxes were the words, Please enter your SSN.  He put in his Social Security number and hit enter.  Once again the screen show him the same three boxes. Only this time the words were different.  ‘Please enter a valid SSN.’  Carefully typing the numbers, he once again entered his number.  After checking them over to make absolutely sure he had typed them right, he hit enter.  For the third time the same boxes were on the screen.  The machine again asked him to enter a valid SSN. 

 

            Now more confused than ever, he hit the quit button and left.  Walking home, he thought about what had just happened.  He just couldn’t understand why the machine hadn’t accepted his SSN.  Lost in thought, he began crossing a side street.  He didn’t see the car until it was almost too late.  Catching it out of the corner of his eye, he jumped back just before it hit him.  The driver never even looked at him as he drove on down the side street.  Shaking from the near miss, Jason continued on his way. 

 

            When he got home, he went to unlock the door, only to find that his key no longer worked.  Thinking he may have grabbed the wrong one, he tried each of his keys in turn.  None of them seemed to work.  Finally, he went and grabbed the spare key his mother kept hidden.  After a bit of struggling, it eventually opened the door.  Closing the door behind him, he replaced the key in it’s hiding place and went to ‘his’ room.  He lay down on the bed and tried to think about the afternoon’s events.  However, the excitement of almost getting run over had drained him and he soon fell asleep.

 

            As he slept, his dreams were filled with nightmare images of ghosts and shadows.  All of the ghosts were trying to speak to him but he couldn’t hear them.  Each one was dressed differently.  Some wore ancient clothes from ages long gone, while others wore more modern clothing.  All had various tools with them.  Some of the tools he couldn’t identify, but some he knew.  He could see an abacus, a blacksmith hammer, one man carrying a block of ice with a pair of tongs, and many, many more.  They kept reaching for him, and continued to speak without a sound.  Finally, Jason heard one word very clearly from a multitude of throats.  Welcome.

 

            Jolted awake, Jason sat on the bed trying to get his bearings.  The images from his dream dancing through his mind.  Moving over to the desk in the corner, he grabbed a sheet of paper and a pen, and began to write.

 

                                    Ghosts of the Times

 

                        Born to mediocrity, grown to insignificance,

                        Bred to a task that no longer exists.

                        Dreams unfulfilled, hopes are denied,

                        Lives are forgotten in Time’s turns and twists.

 

                        Fletcher and Thatcher, Wainwright and Cooper,

                        Exist only as names, who knows what they did?

                        Jobs of today, much like those of the past,

                        Lost to history, in it’s mists they are hid

 

                        Lifetimes of learning, practice and work,

                        Gone in a heartbeat, cut down in their primes.

                        The people who worked at those jobs gone forever.

                        Restlessly roam as Ghosts of the Times.

            Putting down the pen, Jason made his way out of the rapidly darkening house.  He had no destination in mind, he just felt that he needed to walk.  Carefully closing and locking the door behind him, he started walking.  As he walked, he began to see people appearing all around him.  They were the same people who had been in his dream.  It wasn’t long before he could feel them touching his arm or putting a hand on his shoulder.  “Welcome.”  They said.  “Relax.  You’re with friends now.”

 

            Jason kept walking, and the ghosts walked with him.  As the sun set, Jason smiled.  “At least I don’t have to look for a job anymore.”